Start Fresh
by LeonieLunatic
Summary: After years of therapy in a high danger psych ward, Jinx – now in her late twenties – has gotten her life back in order and has decided to attend college. But relapses can happen at any time – especially when love turns into obsession.
1. Prologue

"Where's Pow-Pow? Fishbones? Let me go! NO!"  
"We're here to help you, please understan-"  
"I don't need your help! I'm fine the way I am! I'm gonna blow you all up! LET ME GO!"

I jerk awake. Sometimes, my mind decides to show me my first day in the psych ward I was in for five years.

Why, you ask?  
Well, a few years ago, I'd lost my mind. Forgotten who I was, killed people I loved, talked to inanimate objects and people that didn't exist and blew up buildings and killed so, oh so many people – only to get my twin sister's attention. Who had forgotten I existed, because she suffered a psychotic breakdown when she saw me kill the people who had been family for us for years, and lost her memory afterwards.  
She remembers me now. She checks on me every now and then. I think she is still trying to deal with the fact that I killed and hurt so many people.'  
When they finally caught me, I was in the process of blowing myself up, without even realizing what I was doing.

Five years of intense therapy and five pills a day made me come to my senses.  
I still see a therapist every week. And I'll probably never get off these pills. Three in the morning, two at night before bed.  
Which means it's about time.

I get out of bed and open the curtains over the window that's across my bed.  
It's a sunny spring morning, but the grey clouds in the distance suggest rain later today.  
I'm starting college today.

Yeah, it sounds insane. But when they released me for the loony bin, my therapist suggested that I should socialize. And some education wouldn't hurt.

They gave me a new identity. Hannah Rosecorn is my new name.  
Admittedly, I still like the nickname they gave me when I was murdering people all over the state. Jinx. The few people I still have close from this time (aka my therapist and my sister) still call me by that name.  
I've been out for three months now and I still haven't gotten used to Hannah, I probably never will. It doesn't sound like me.

But then again, who _am_ I? A nutcase that's on five pills a day, that was charged with 108 counts of murder, 165 counts of mayhem, 78 counts of assault and 41 counts of destruction of property but was found legally insane.  
I don't really remember a lot about myself. I remember what my life was like, what happened to me, and why I snapped. But I haven't really found myself yet. Which makes me think that they probably shouldn't have released me this soon.  
Heck, when I first got there, my psychiatrist told me I'd probably never get out.

But now I'm here. In my own apartment and about to start my first day at college.  
I look over to my night stand, which has an alarm clock sitting on top of it.  
It's time to get ready o'clock.

I open my closet door. The first outfit that catches my eye is the one I was wearing when they caught me.  
Bad idea, Jinx. They gave you a new identity, time to give yourself a makeover.  
Mind you, since I got out I left the house maybe two or three times to go grocery shopping in my sweatpants.  
I grab a blue dress, but after gagging at the thought of me in a dress, I decide on a pair of black skinny jeans and a T-Shirt.

I make my way to the bathroom where I grab my Anti-Depressants, Anti-Psychotics and Anti-Anxiety medication.  
I used to have major issues with swallowing pills, but over the years I've gotten used to it.  
I take them all together, turn on the faucet to get a sip of water.  
I turn the faucet off, put the pills back in the mirror cabinet and close it. Staring back at me is now a pale young woman with a face that would fit a 16-year-old, bloodshot eyes with dark shadows under them.  
They cut my hair when I arrived at the hospital. I'm trying to grow it out again, but it's still only about shoulder length. And it's my natural hair colour – platinum blonde. I've thought about dyeing it blue again, but my therapist told me not to, it might make people recognize me. I also need to cover my tattoo – which means long sleeves, even in summer.

I get undressed, and while avoiding the sight of my naked body in the mirror, I hop under the shower.  
Thanks to my time in the hospital, I've grown to resent showers. You were only allowed one shower per week and were constantly being watched by at least two people.  
As a result, my showers now only take about three to five minutes.  
Once I'm done, I jump out like I was showering in acid and throw on my clothes.

I blow dry my hair and decide on only the teeniest bit of make up, to cover the dark shadows under my eyes.  
And now, I guess, I'm ready. I grab my bag, take a deep breath and open the door to my apartment.

Time to start a new life.


	2. Chapter One

"Morning," is the first thing I hear as I exist the apartment building.

My twin sister is leaning against the wall, flinging her car keys on her left index finger.

"Morning, Vi."  
"Slept well?"  
"I guess."  
"Taken you meds?"  
"Yes."  
"You ready for this?"  
"No."

She just stares at me for a while. Then she gestures me to get in her car.  
It's her work car. A fucking police car. Exactly what I needed on my first day at college.

"I think I'll walk, thanks."  
"Don't be stupid, it would take you an hour to get there. Get in the damn car, it's not like I'll start the sirens or some shit."

I mumble an insult towards her as I open the car door and sit down.  
Vi gets in on the driver's seat.

"You know, if you had a driver's license, I wouldn't have to drive you everywhere."  
"Oh yeah, after being locked up for five years, my first concern is to get a driver's license. And then, I guess, I'd just steal a car, because the money I have is barely enough to buy enough food."

Vi doesn't respond and just starts the car.  
The drive to the college is silent. I watch the sky as the grey clouds come closer.

"I'm sorry."

My thought are interrupted by Vi's words.

"What?"  
"I said I'm sorry. It's been over five years and I still can't deal with what you've done."  
"Well, maybe if you talked to someone instead of keeping it a secret... like, your lover for example."  
"She's not my lover. And there's no way in hell I'm gonna tell her the criminal who ruined her city is my sister."  
"I didn't –"  
"Shut up. I'm gonna deal with this my way."  
"Yeah, because that worked out really well so far."

Silence again.

"There," she stops the car, "Now get out of my car."  
"You have a nice day too, sis," I mumble as I grab my bag and get out of the car.

She speeds off as soon as I slam the door shut.  
I can feel the people standing around me staring at me.  
I would too, if I had just seen someone get dropped off by the police.  
I tighten the grip around my bag, take a deep breath and, slowly, walk towards the big building in front of me.  
I guess this is it. College.  
Even before I lost my mind, I never would have even dreamt about attending college one day.  
I didn't even finish middle school. (Of course, they drilled everything I missed into my brain while I was locked up.)

"Hey!"

I wince. Suddenly there is a pretty, young woman all in up my face. I blink a few times.

"Can I help you?", I ask.  
"I was wondering the same thing about you. You seem a little lost. You new?"

Her voice is unlike anything I've ever heard. So clear and soothing. No too high, not too deep.

"Yeah, I... just, uh, moved here. First day."  
"I remember my first day. Sucks, especially when you don't know anyone. What do you study?"  
"Psychology."

My therapist's idea. To 'help me understand myself better'. This whole college thing is basically a journey to find myself.

"Really? Me too!"

So she's not only pretty, but intelligent as well.  
… Stop that thought right there, Jinx.

"So what's your name?"  
"J- Hannah. It's Hannah. My name is Hannah."

Nice job. That sounded totally convincing.

"Nice to meet you, Hannah. I'm Olivia."

She reaches out to shake my hand.  
I haven't had any physical contact with anyone for years. Except for the doctors and nurses trying to restrain me whenever I had one of my meltdowns.  
It feels like something's exploding inside me as I shake her hand.

She smiles at me. She has dimples. And a few lonely freckles on her nose, as well as a heavy, black pair of nerdy glasses that doesn't quite fit her slim face. Her thick, dark brown hair is braided into pigtails that are resting on her perfectly sized breasts. She's tried the braids with little, light blue bows. Fucking adorable.

She's like the definition of innocence. But at the same time, incredibly attractive.

"Do you know how to get to your classes?"

I'm so captivated by her, it takes me a second to respond.

"No idea," I say with an awkward smile.  
"Well, since we're studying the same subject, you're lucky. Follow me."

There's that smile again. Fuck. _Fuck.  
_ She turns around and one of her braids flies over her shoulder, now resting on her shoulder blade as she starts walking.  
I'm mesmerized. I follow her, not taking my eyes off her.

The campus is huge and we've probably been walking for a good ten minutes, but the time just flies by as I listen to her talk about our professors, the cafeteria food and the college clubs.

"There we are. Right on time, too, class is about to start."

We walk inside the (huge-ass) classroom and I sit down beside her. Not two minutes later, the room is filled with chattering people in their early twenties and a man that looks way too old to still be teaching walks in.

He briefly notifies the other students of my existence, I hear a few "Hi, Hannah"s and then our professor, whose name vaguely escapes me, starts the class.

He does a short introduction into the human mind and then does what I assume to be a repetition of what they've done in class so far.

Olivia repeatedly raises her hand during class and by the way she talks it's obvious that she's fascinated by the human mind. And also, probably, a straight-A student.

Oh, if only she knew. I could be the subject of master thesis or something.  
I wonder if they've ever talked about complete nutcases like me in this class, or if they're still only discussing the mere surface of just how messed up a person's mind can be.

When, after three long hours, the bell that announces lunchtime rings, the first words out of Olivia's mouth are "Finally, I'm starving!"  
Then she looks at me, and flashes that beautiful smile of hers again.

"Come, I'll show you the cafeteria," she says.  
"Maybe you could do that later. I'd like to have a word with our new student, if you don't mind, Miss Percal."

The professor is standing next to us and looks at me with what I can only describe as the 'death stare'.  
Olivia grabs her bag, mouths "See you later" and leaves.  
I would've given anything to not be alone with this guy right now. This _can't_ be good.


	3. Chapter Two

"I'm going to bluntly honest with you, Miss Rosecorn."

Great.

"I don't agree with you being here. Someone like you should be studied by psychology students. Not be one yourself."  
"I've changed."

He scoffs.

"Please. Someone like you should never be released. I do not have the slightest idea why my colleagues of Piltover's Mental Asylum decided it would be a good idea to let you walk free. You're lucky you weren't executed. I've seen your record and it wasn't hard for me to figure out who you were."

I feel fear grasp me like a huge, ice cold fist.

"And your diagnosis is a joke. Schizoaffective disorder? I've seen dozens of people with that diagnosis. Know how many of them went on a killing spree?"

His eyes are piercing me.

"You're lucky that the leader of this fine university has such a big heart. And that she wasn't around when you were... active. Otherwise she never would have agreed to let you study here."  
"I'm on meds, I still see a therapist-"  
"None of that is going to fix the monster that you are. You're a danger to all of us."

Oh trust me, old man. If I had my guns right now, you'd be one dead motherfucker. Asshole.

"And don't you dare lay a single finger in Miss Percal. She's been through enough. And one of my best students."

Silence. He just... stares at me. Stares down, makes me feel like the monster he thinks I am.

"Now get out of my sight," he finally hisses.

I walk backwards until my back hits the wall, then turn around, grasp the door handle and stumble out of the classroom, my heart beating outside my chest.

"What'd he want?"

Olivia is leaning against the wall across from the classroom. Was she waiting for me?

"I, uh, nothing. Gave me a few notes of what you did in class so far," I say, but I know I don't sound very convincing.  
"He can be a little rough with new students. Are you okay?"

I just nod.

"Come on, let's grab some lunch. Get your mind off things."

She smiles and takes _my fucking hand_ , dragging me along.

As we enter the cafeteria, a weird feeling hits me. It reminds me of my last year at the hospital, when they stopped bringing the food to my room and let me eat in the common room with the other patients. I was practically never allowed outside my room the first three years, except for medical exams. I remember refusing to take the meds during the first months, throwing the pills back up after they'd left. They gave me something to suppress my gag reflex when they noticed. In hindsight, that was good. Helped me get over my eating disorder.

Yeah, what Mr. Professor, whatever his fucking name is, just said, isn't quite right. Yes, I was diagnosed with Schizoaffective Disorder. But I was also diagnosed with Sociopathy, Bulimia, Pyromania, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Anti-Social Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder. I'm a mess. And I am far from healed.

"Hannah?"

I wince.

"Huh? What?"  
"Are you okay? You zoned out for a second there," Olivia says with a worried look on her face.  
"Yeah, I just... remembered something," I respond, only now realizing that I was trying to eat noodle soup with a knife.  
"Left the stove on?"

There's that smile. Again.

"Something like that."

I force myself to smile back.  
She'd hate me if she knew who I was. Everyone here would.  
I hate this. I have no idea how to communicate with people. For the longest time, the only friends I had were a rocket launcher and a mini gun. And a shock pistol, but he never talked to me.  
Christ. Why did my therapist think throwing me into college life after five years of practically no social life was a good idea?  
I feel my cheeks and ears getting hot and my eyes fill with tears.  
Fuck.

"I gotta go."  
"What? Hannah, we have another lesson after lunch."

I stare at my bowl on noodle soup and say nothing. Don't cry. Don't. Cry.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She sounds genuinely worried. I can't tell her the truth. I just met her.

"Migraines. I get them frequently," I say, my voice shaking, "I forgot to take my painkillers with me."

I mean, this isn't a complete lie. I didn't take my anxiety medication, that I can take whenever I need it (Just not more than four per day) with me.

"Where do you live? I can drive you, so can pick up your meds."  
"No, I can't ask that from you."  
"I'd feel horrible letting go home on your own in this state. Come on."

Gently, she grabs my arm and walks me out of the cafeteria, outside the building and to the parking lot, holding me the entire time as we walk. If she learned anything during her Psychology lessons, she knows that I'm having an anxiety attack.

She opens the car door for me and then gets in on the driver's seat.

"Now, where do you live?"  
"853 Borne Street."

She looks at me for a second before she starts the car. I suppose she knows a lot of social mishaps live on that block. Which doesn't help my anxiety attack at all. I've started visibly shaking by now, but I'm still trying my bet to hide it.

Olivia is speeding to my place, running over two red lights and going constantly 30 over the speed limit.  
By the time we arrive at my apartment building I've become basically rigid. She helps me out the car and up the stairs. With shaking hands, I unlock my apartment door. She follows me inside, I don't have the strength to stop her.

Like a sleepwalker I shuffle to my bathroom. Just as I open my mirror cabinet and take out my anxiety meds, I feel my stomach cramp. Oh shit.

I drop the pill bottle and rush over to the toilet to throw up.

"Are you okay?", I hear Olivia from outside the bathroom door.  
"Yeah," I say, caughing and gagging, "Don't – Don't come in!"

If she sees the shitton of medication in my cabinet, I'm doomed.


	4. Chapter Three

I see the door handle move and within the split of a second, I've jumped up from sitting the floor and slammed the cabinet door shut. As she opens the door, I reach for my anxiety medication and grab it so she can't read the label on it.

Too much movement after just throwing up. Panting, I lean against the wall. Olivia looks at me, with a rather confused look on her face.

"I thought I heard you throw up."  
"Yeah... migraines do that. Sorry you had to hear that"

I gag, almost throwing up again. This is my worst anxiety attack in a while.  
Bright idea to send me to college. That worked out well.

"You should lie down."  
"Yeah, I'll just... take my meds."  
"Okay. Can I... do anything for you?"  
"Uh..."

If she watches you take that pill she might spot the label on the bottle. Say something, Jinx, quick!

"Uhm, top right shelf next to the fridge... that's where I keep my tea. If you could make me a cup, that'd be great."  
"Sure thing."

She smiles at me for a second before she wanders off to the kitchen.

"Peppermint, please!", I call after her.

I take a few deep breaths, but I still feel sick. I vomit one more time before I can finally take my pill. Drained from all my strength, I shuffle into my bedroom and fall onto my bed, wrapping myself in all the blankets.

I feel like absolute shit.

"Hannah?"

A light tap on my shoulder.

"Your tea."

I sit up, and with shaking hands, I reach for the cup.

"Thanks," I mumble, taking a first sip.  
"I'm sorry your first day went like this. Anxiety is a bitch, huh?"

I freeze.

"Oh, excuse me, I mean migraines, of course."

She smiles at me, and winks. I don't respond, but somehow force myself to smile back.

"It's okay, really. We all have our issues, don't we?"

I look at her, expecting that innocent, calming smile of hers, but her face is... blank.  
I open my mouth to say something, but she interrupts me.

"I'll get back to class. You get some rest. I'll be there for you tomorrow, and the rest of the week. I remember how scary my first days at college were."

She's smiling again.  
Awkwardly, I put my tea down, not knowing if she's expecting a hug or a handshake or something.  
But when I look at her, she's standing in the doorway, waving.

"See you tomorrow."

I wave back, watching her leave.  
A wave of tiredness hits me as soon as I hear the door to my apartment close. I can't even finish my tea before I pass out.

*

" _What. Are. You. Doing. Here._ "

My eyes fly open. Vi is standing at the foot of my bed, looking as though she's ready to murder me.

"I waited one hour, _one hour_ , to pick you up. Why weren't you at college?!"  
"I had an anxiety attack."  
"Sure you did."  
"I'm not kidding Vi. A classmate drove me home because I had a meltdown. And I puked. Two times."  
"A classmate? Who."

She wasn't asking. She was demanding to know who drove me home.

"Her name is Olivia... Olivia Percal, I think."  
"I'm going to check that."  
"You do that. I'm not lying."  
"Anyway, get up. Your therapist wants to know how your first day at college went."

I scoff.

"Tell her it was literally sickening."  
"Or you could tell her that yourself. Get the fuck up."

She doesn't believe me. To be expected. I wouldn't believe me either.  
Grudgingly, I get up. I'm dizzy, but hey, who cares? Not Vi.

"I don't got all day, hurry up."

Muttering a few insults under my breath, I put on my shoes and grab my keys.  
Vi quite literally shoves me out the door, drags me down the stairs and into her car.  
She doesn't say anything for the longest time we're in the car, but her whole body is tensed and she's gritting her teeth.  
She's about ready to explode.

"Yell at me."

Nothing.

"Come on, yell at me! We both know you want to."  
"I don't want to yell at you. I want to shoot you in the face."  
"Hey, that's my kinda thing."

Vi hits the brakes so abruptly, two cars behind us start honking.  
She stares at me, full of hatred.  
The next things happen almost to fast for me to see. She slaps me straight across the face, then strikes again, this time with her fist, hitting my nose.  
It hurts. It hurts a lot. Physically as well as mentally. I'm frozen in shock, hot tears streaming down my cheeks and blood dripping from my nose.

"They never should've let you out," she hisses.

She slams her foot on the gas pedal, going what feels like fifty over the speed limit.  
I'm still frozen in shock when she stops three minutes later, and pushes me out of the car. I stumble, almost falling.

"I'll be back in an hour," she says.

As she reaches for the passenger side's door, I can see that she has some of my blood on her hand. She slams the door shut and speeds off.  
I take my hand away from nose to see that my entire hand is red with blood, it's running down my arm and dripping from my elbow.  
Shaking, I sink to the floor and start sobbing.

She's right. She really is. They never should've let me out.


	5. Chapter Four

"Jinx?"

I look up, wiping the tears from my face. My therapist is standing in front of me, staring at me in utter shock.  
Right, I'm covered in blood. She probably thinks I killed someone.

"Vi hit me," I say, pointing at my nose, "I didn't hurt anyone."

My therapist helps me get up.

"Well, this doesn't seem like you were having a good day. Come on, lets get in."

She puts one arm around me and walks me into the building and then her office.

"Sit down. I'll get you something cold for your nose and a wash cloth so you can wash off the blood."

Still shaking, I sit down on the comfortable chair that's sitting right across the window. The sky is grey now, the first rain drops are hitting the window.

"Here."

She hands me an icepack and a wet cloth and then sits down on the chair next to the window.

"Now, why did your sister hit you?", she asks as I clean the blood off me face, hand and arm.  
"She was mad at me because I skipped school," I say, pressing the icepack to my nose, "And I... I made a bad joke and provoked her."  
"You skipped school?"  
"I had a bad anxiety attack after the first period. A friend - a classmate drove me home so I could take my meds. I was sick and threw up, she told me I should get some rest rather than going back to class."  
"Did you take your anxiety medication in the morning?"  
"Yes. I guess I was just... really stressed out. I don't think this whole college thing is working, to be honest."  
"I told you the first weeks were going to be hard."  
"Yeah, but -"  
"Jinx, it's not going to work if you don't believe in yourself. Let your new friend help you, I'm sure she can help you through this."  
"I wouldn't call her a friend just yet."  
"Well, she drove you home when you weren't feeling well. That means, at the very least, that she's a very caring individual. You need people like that in your life. What's her name?"  
"Olivia."

I can feel my cheeks blush slightly as I say her name. My therapist catches this reaction and something about the way she's looking at me tells me that she doesn't like it.

"When did you meet her, again?", she asks.  
"This morning when I arrived at college."  
"I didn't think you had these tendencies"  
"Tendencies? What tendencies?", I ask, confused.

She picks up her clipboard and writes something down, not saying anything for a while.

"You just met her and you already have a crush on her."  
"I – what?" I laugh nervously, "I just met her. I don't – I mean – I just met her."  
"Jinx, the last thing you should do right now is fall in love. You're not ready for a relationship and if she finds out who you are -"  
"Oh so I'm not ready for a relationship but I'm ready for college?"  
"Jinx, you killed your last girlfriend. As a matter of fact, she was the first person you ever killed."  
"That's not true. I killed my parents when I was a child."  
"No, you killed them in self-defence. They were a threat to you and your sister's lives."

I shuffle in my seat, staring at my feet.

"We don't know if Midnight was the first. I still don't remember much from that night..."  
"We both know that it's very likely that she was the first."

I hadn't thought about Midnight in almost a year. She was my first girlfriend and we lasted six years. She was the one who kept me sane for the longest time, and then... then I killed her.  
I cover my face with my hands to hide the tears that are rolling down my cheeks.

"See? You're not even over her death, you couldn't possibly start a new relationship like that."  
"I'm over the fact that she's dead. I just not over the fact that she's dead because of me. And I wouldn't even dream of starting a new relationship in this condition. Just like I wouldn't even dream of attending college -"  
"Jinx..."  
"Put me back in the fucking hospital, where I belong!", I yell, a little louder than I had planned to.

Silence. For a solid two minutes, I hear nothing except for the clock ticking quietly.

"Is that what you want? Being locked in a room all day, all alone with yourself?"  
"It's where I belong," I whisper.  
"Jinx, you've made great progress over the past few years. You feel remorse for what you did. You don't hear voices anymore. You're responding to your medication and you take it every day without having someone force it down your throat. I don't think you need to be locked up. Not anymore."

I don't respond. I don't know what to say.

"I wouldn't have gotten you out if I didn't believe that you could function in society. No one said it was going to be easy. But I believe in you."

I force myself to a weak smile.

"Thanks."

Gently, she touches my shoulder.

"You can do this," she says, smiling.

Then she gets up and hands me my jacket.

"I guess our time is up for today. But I'd like to see you again in two days."

I nod, putting on my jacket.

"And remember, you can always call me."

She shakes my hand and I mumble a "see ya then" before I leave her office.  
When I exit the building, I am greeted by rain that is now pouring. I hope Vi is already here so I don't get soaked – but then again I really don't want to see her right now. I take a few steps to see her car, sitting on the street, waiting for me.  
I take a deep breath and get in.

"Hi," I say.

Vi doesn't respond.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

Again, no response. Without a word, she starts the car. We drive for a while, without either of us saying a word.

"So, I checked. Olivia Percal exists."  
"Told you."  
"This doesn't prove she drove you home."

Silence again.

"Cait got back together with her ex."  
"And that's why you punch me in the face?"  
"No, you deserved that."  
"I said I'm sorry."  
"Look, I had a shit day and playing taxi for my mentally fucked up sister that has history as a serial killer just doesn't help. Maybe you can ask Olivia to be your uber in the future because you're wearing me out."  
"... Ouch."  
"Yeah, imagine how much it hurt when I remembered who I am. And who you are."  
"Vi, do me a favour. Stop talking. Please."

I'm trying my best to hide the shaking in my voice, but I know she can hear it.  
She doesn't say anything for the rest of the drive.


	6. Chapter Five

Back home, I just sit down on my bed, staring at the wall.  
Today has been shit. And I'm angry. Angry at myself, but especially angry at Vi.  
Who does she think she is?  
She knew what she was getting into when she recognized me as her sister.  
Yes, I fucked up on a major level in the past. But does she really have to guilt trip me over it? I feel bad enough about all of this as it is.  
Maybe it would've been better if she hadn't remembered who I am after all. Or who she is.  
She isn't the Vi I knew. She just isn't herself anymore. But then again, neither am I.

I mean, look at me. Angel blonde hair, innocent blue eyes. Skinny jeans, white shirts. Heck, this one has pastel blue flowers on it. Flowers.  
This isn't me.  
I clench my fists.  
Fuck, what am I even doing here? I'm not normal, I'll never be. Who am I kidding?  
I stare down at my arms, pushing up the sleeves of my shirt. My right arm is covered in blue clouds and pink bullets, the left is covered in scars.  
I let out a scream and then, with all my strength, punch the wall.  
I can feel a bone in my hand snap, but I don't feel the pain.

I kick my night stand, the lamp falls to the floor and breaks, along with the cup of tea that Olivia made for me that was still half full.  
I grab my hair with both hands and pull, screaming, half in pain, half in... desperation.

"Fuck! FUCK!", I yell, on my knees with both my hands buried in my hair.

I'm sitting right across the full body mirror.  
Look at you, you pathetic little thing.  
On all fours, I crawl to the mirror, staring myself in the eyes.  
Who the fuck is this person that's staring back at me?  
I raise my already broken hand and lightly punch the mirror.  
Then, clenching my teeth, I punch again, shattering the glass.  
The shards cut my skin, my left arm and hand are bleeding, but I couldn't care less.  
I hope it hit an important vein in my arm.  
My screaming has now faded into quiet sobbing.

I don't know for how long I've been sitting here, might have been five minutes as well as an hour, when I hear the doorbell ring.  
Shit. Fuck. Shitfuck.  
I get up from the floor, now fully aware of the pain in my left hand. Ow, fuck.  
I tumble out of my bedroom, making sure the door is closed shut before I open the apartment door.

"Olivia?"

Hastily, I pull down my sleeves, so she won't see the tattoo. And the scars.

"I brought you some notes from the afternoon lesson," she said, holing them out for me to take them.

As I go to reach for them, her eyes widen.

"What happened to your hand?!"

It has swollen to double its normal size by now and there's at least one rather deep cut on my wrist.

"I tripped and fell," I say.

Olivia, not asking for permission, slips past me and heads for my bathroom.

"Wha-What are you doing?!", I call after her, a little louder than I intended to.

She turns around at me with a rather concerned look on her face. Concerned, and maybe a little confused.

"This needs to be taken care of."  
"I – I don't have any bandages," I stutter, desperately trying to stop her from opening my medicine cabinet, "But... I think it's broken."  
"Let me see it," she says, coming closer.

I hold out my hand, to let her inspect it. It hurts like hell, even though she's incredibly gentle. Even the slightest movement, the lightest touch feels like being hit with a metal hammer.

"Yeah, this is definitely broken."

She looks at me.

"You sure you don't have bandages?"

I nod. Olivia looks like she's thinking hard.

"With the afternoon traffic, it would take forever to get to the hospital..."

Pleasedon'tsearchmybathroomforbandages,pleaseohpleaseohplease.

"I have bandages at home. I don't live too far from here, come on."  
"Wait, what?"  
"You heard me. Here, I'll help you put on your shoes."

She grabs my shoes that are standing next to my apartment door. I slip my feet in and Olivia bows down to tie them for me. Then she points at the hook on the wall, next to the door.

"Those are your keys, right?"  
"Yeah."

She takes them off the hook and then takes my non-broken hand and drags me outside.

"Shouldn't we let a doctor have a look at my hand?", I ask as I get into her car.  
"My dad was an emergency doctor, he taught a me a thing or two," she responds as she pulls out of the parking lot.

She wasn't lying when she said she lived close by. Within not even ten minutes, she parks in front of a fancy looking, modern apartment building. It's just as pretty on the outside as it is on the inside. Even the stairway looks like it was just remodelled.

She unlocks her apartment door, gesturing me to get in. My jaw drops. Clean, white tiles on the floor. Freshly plastered walls. Highly modern, very clean and probably very expensive furniture.  
I feel like a slimeball in a room made of diamonds.

"Sit down, I'll get the bandages."

Terrified I might get blood on the white leather couch, I hold my hand as far up in the air as possible.  
When Olivia returns with what looks to be an oversized first aid kid, she gives me a funny look.

"I hear blood and white leather don't mix well," I mumble.

She laughs. "No worries, the leather is fake. It can be cleaned easily. Now put your hand down so I can bandage it."

She sits down next to me and puts my hand on her lap. First she pushes my sleeves up and, completely ignoring the scars, cleans the wounds and wipes away the blood.

"Okay, this is going to hurt. A lot. I'm sorry."

Just as I want to ask her what she's talking about, she pushes the broken bone in my hand back into its original place. I scream in pain, my eyes filling with tears. This might just be the worst physical pain I've ever felt.

"I'm sorry," she says again.

Then she applies ointment on my hand, every times she touches it makes me want to die.  
But despite the pain, I have to say she's doing an amazing job. She's even using splints to immobilize my hand before bandaging it.

"I hope you're not left handed," she says jokingly after she's done bandaging my hand.  
"I'm pretty ambidextrous," I say, barely audible.

She looks up from my hand. Her face is so close to mine.

"Thank you... for patching up my hand," I whisper.  
"You're welcome," she responds, also whispering.

The tip of her nose is touching mine and I can feel her breath on my lips while I'm holding mine.  
Don't even think about kissing her. Don't even think about it. Don't...

Her lips are the softest thing I've ever felt.


	7. Chapter Six

Heat. My entire body feels hot.  
Oh God, no. nonono. What am I doing?  
I push Olivia away, a little rougher than I would've had to.

"I need to leave," I say, with my teeth gritted.  
"No, please, stay," Olivia says, grabbing my arm as I get up, "I'm sure he's cheated on you before, too."  
"He?"

She looks me deep in the eyes, the look on her face is very serious.

"Your abusive boyfriend."  
"My – what?"

I can't help but laugh.

"I appreciate your concern, but I haven't had a relationship in over five years. Oh yeah and – I'm very, very gay."  
"But – your nose is bruised... and the broken hand, the cuts..."  
"I'm just... really clumsy," I say, forcing myself to a grin, "I'm about as single as one can be."  
"Oh..."

She lets go of my arm and I get up from the sofa.

"I just – this isn't a good idea. I wish I could explain, but-"  
"Okay, let's take it slow, we just met."  
"That's just it! We _just_ met! I could be a serial killer, for all you know."

Whoa, slow down there, Jinx. She's gonna catch on eventually if you keep talking.  
Olivia looks thoroughly confused but I know if I stay here any longer, I'm gonna lose my mind.  
Not that I haven't already...  
Without another word, I turn around and leave, ignoring the stabbing pain in my lower abdomen.

But as I exit Olivia's apartment, what I initially thought was psychosomatic pain, gets worse with every step. Once I'm outside the apartment complex, I have to lean against a wall, the pain makes it impossible to keep walking.  
What is this? Period cramps? I can't remember the last time I had my period. Must've been years ago.  
But I don't remember period cramps feeling this bad. It feels like I'm being stabbed with a hot knife. It hurts to bad, it makes me feel nauseous.  
Desperately trying not to vomit, I curl up on the sidewalk.

"Miss?", I hear a male voice, "Miss, are you okay?"

I open one of my eyes. There's a young man kneeling next to me.

"I don't know... pain... lower abdomen...," is all I can manage to say.  
"Can you sit up?"

He reaches out to help me get up, but immediately takes his hands off me when I start screaming in pain.

"I'm going to call an ambulance, okay?"

He then proceeds to take his phone and dial.

"Hello? Yes, there's a young woman curled up on the sidewalk, complaining of severe abdominal pain. It seems she can't move..."

All the sounds I hear are muffled, my vision is blurry. My entire world consists of pain. My teeth are gritted, my eyes closed shut, my broken hand is motionlessly resting on the sidewalk, the other is clenching my stomach. I'm shaking with pain.  
I think I'm going to be sick...

Sirens... I can hear sirens in the distance. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Miss, can you tell us your name?", I hear who I assume to be the emergency doctor ask.  
"Rosecorn... Hannah."  
"Alright Miss Rosecorn, we're going to put you on a stretcher now, okay?"

I can feel them lifting me up, turning me on my back and making lie flat.  
Tears are streaming down my face.

"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"  
"No..."  
"Are you sure?"  
"I don't fuck dudes," I groan.

I can hear him asking me something else, but I can barely recognize what it is. Slowly, I'm losing consciousness...

*

"Miss Rosecorn?"

Black. Everything is black.  
My eyelids feel to heavy to lift. It costs me a lot of strength to open my eyes.  
I'm in a hospital bed, hooked to an IV.  
There's a doctor standing to my left.

"Wh-what happened?"  
"The good news is, you are completely healthy – your broken hand aside."  
"Then what was that pain?"  
"We think what you suffered is what we call phantom pain. It feels very real, but it's really all in your head. It usually only occurs in amputees but in rare cases, people who have gone through very traumatic experiences that involve pain, like car crashes, can experience it as well. The person will then relive the pain they experienced. Now, a miscarriage is such a traumatic experience..."'  
"Miscarriage?"  
"We did a gynaecological examination on you and checked your medical history, it seems that you were pregnant some time back but miscarried. Is that not the case?"  
"I..."

I don't know. I don't remember – ever being pregnant. I feel numb.  
I can feel all the colour leaving my face.

"Is there... someone I can call for you?", the doctor asks, with a very concerned look on his face.  
"Yeah... my sister..."

I wish I could have them call Olivia instead if Vi. But I don't have her phone number.  
The doctor hands me a pen and a piece of paper on which I scribble Vi's mobile phone number.

She turns up at the hospital not even ten minutes later. She'd never admit it, but she actually looks rather worried.

"What happened? They didn't tell me any specifics..."  
"I'm completely healthy. Let's just go."

The nurse hands me back my clothes and everything that was in my pockets and pulls out the IV, then I'm free to go.

"You don't get admitted to the hospital for being healthy. So could you please tell me what happened?", Vi asks once we're in her car

I stare at the band-aid on my hand that marks the spot where I was connected to the IV.

"Vi, did I ever... was I... a miscarriage, did I have one? Like, ever? Do you remember anything?"  
"You don't remember this? It's how we managed to finally catch you."


	8. Chapter Seven

" _What_?"  
"You really don't remember, do you?"

Vi sighs and leans back in her car seat.

"Do you remember the day we caught you?", she asks.  
"Yeah. It was sometime in January, I was shooting up a high school."

Vi nods.

"You were running from us as usually. But you suddenly stopped running and just before we could reach you, you threw mini grenades at us, which was something you hadn't ever done before."  
"I did?"  
"Once all of them had gone off and the smoke was gone, you had vanished as well. We split up to look for you. Cait found you, you were curled up in a ball in a classroom, screaming and bleeding. I wanted her to just shoot you right then and there, but she insisted on taking you to the hospital and arresting you afterwards. Don't know what drover her to do that, she wanted you dead ever since you first started your rampage. I guess she felt sorry for you or something."  
"Wait, you're telling me that a miscarriage is the reason why I'm still alive now?"  
"Basically."

Neither of us say a word for a while.

"I don't think I knew I was pregnant," I whisper.  
"If my calculations are correct, the father..."  
"Don't say it."

The day I snapped – I was raped. I was caught about three months after that.  
Vi has a weird look on her face. It isn't that angry, hateful, annoyed look I've come to get used to. She looks honestly worried, almost as if she feels actually sorry for me. Awkwardly, she puts her hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she says.  
"Just imagine me with a child. Oh God."

Pass out, vomit, cry, throw a fit, kill myself...  
What was that in the middle part? Right. Cry.  
I cover my face with my hands, desperately trying to hide the fact that I'm crying.

"You know, I've been thinking," Vi says, probably to change the topic.  
"Huh?"  
"I'm going to tell Cait that you're my sister."

I look up.

"Wait, what?"  
"Don't have anything to lose, do I? Now that she's back together with Jayce."  
"You really like that chick, eh?"

Vi rolls her eyes.

"Shut up."

She starts her car.

"I don't think you should be alone tonight," she says.

And she's probably right.

"Fancy a night on my sofa?"  
"Aren't you and Cait room mates?"  
"Perfect opportunity to introduce you to her, don't ya think?"

We drive to my place so I can pick up my bag and books for school, and then drive to Vi's place.  
When she ended up in Piltover with total amnesia, Caitlyn took pity on her and invited her to stay with her for a while. They became friends and Caitlyn got my sister a job as enforcer. They still live together now. Which is probably why Vi got her hopes up – while Caitlyn obviously only thought of her as a bestie or something.

"What if she kicks us out?", I ask as Vi pulls into her parking spot.  
"Then I'm going to spend the night on your sofa."

Ouch. Vi seems really pissed about that whole Cait/Jayce thing.

We get out of the car and I'm immediately blown away by the house that's in front of me. This is no apartment building. This is a house. Scratch that, this is a fucking mansion.

"Cait inherited it from her parents," Vi says when she notices the look on my face, "Come on."

She unlocks the door and gestures me to get in.

"Cait! I'm home! And I brought someone with me!", Vi calls out.

I hear steps coming towards us from the upper floor. This is the first time I'm going to see Piltover's sheriff ever since they arrested me. A sudden urge to run away overcomes me.

"Vi, I don't think -"

I can see Caitlyn walk down the steps. As soon as she spots me, she stops walking.

"Isn't that...," she mutters, "What is she doing here?! They put you in charge of her, not me. "  
"There's been an incident. I'd like her to spend the night here."

Caitlyn looks at Vi, then at me, then back at Vi.

"You're insane."  
"There's something I haven't told you about her."  
"And what would that be?"

Vi opens her mouth, and closes it again, obviously looking for the right words. Then, she takes a deep breath.

"She's my twin sister."  
"She's your – what? You must be joking."

Silence. I feel uncomfortable.

"Please tell me you're joking."  
"Yeah, she's totally joking, and I'll just, uh, go home now," I say, ready to turn around and leave, but Vi grabs my arm.  
"I never told because I was scared what you'd say. I didn't know until after her trial. That's where I remembered. But trust me, I wanted her dead just as much as you did -"  
"Thanks..."  
"- but we'd already locked her up. I was scared for our friendship. I swear it doesn't run in our family -"  
"Actually, it kinda does, mom was -"  
"Shut up!", Vi yells, with her hand raised.

I close my eyes, expecting her to hit me, but she takes a deep breath and puts her hand down.

"Point is... she's been through things I haven't, which is why she's fucked up and I'm not. I'm not proud of what she did, I still have issues dealing with the fact that the person who destroyed your city is my sister. I never wanted to tell you..."  
"Then why did you?", Caitlyn asks.

Yeah Vi, why did you?  
She doesn't seem to know what to say for a while. And I feel increasingly uncomfortable.

"Because I felt like you deserved to know the truth."  
"You know, after you've failed to tell me the truth for over five years, I would have been just fine never knowing."

The expression on Caitlyn's face is ice cold. My sister's face is blending in with the white wall behind us.

"So, tell me, why would your sister – or you, for that matter – deserve to spend even one more minute in this house?"  
"The miscarriage she suffered when we caught her – she relived it today, she didn't know it happened. She didn't remember."  
"Amnesia runs in your family, huh?"

The way she's talking makes the whole room feel ten degrees colder.

"I just... She relived a big trauma today, I don't want her to do anything stupid tonight."

Caitlyn takes a few steps towards us. Specifically me. She doesn't stop walking until her nose almost touches mine. Ice cold shivers are running down my spine.

"One night."

Then she turns around and goes back upstairs without another word.


	9. Chapter Eight

"And they say I'm scary," I whisper to break the silence that had surrounded us for a good two minutes.  
"It's late," Vi says.

And that's all she says for the next hour that I spend changing into my pyjamas, having a cereal bar for dinner, taking my meds, flipping pages in my psychology book and reading the notes that Olivia brought me.  
Vi's sitting in a love chair across from the sofa staring into nothingness.

"Still think that was such a good idea?", I ask, turning over a page in my book.  
"She hates me," Vi whispers.  
"She would've kicked us out if she did. If you ask me, she likes you a bit too much."

Vi's face lightens up a bit. I put the notes and the book down.

"What times is it?", I ask.  
"Midnight. We should get some sleep. Especially you. College and such."

I sigh. I'm not looking forward to going back to college. But on the plus side, I'm going to see Olivia again...  
Vi hands me a blanket and gets one for herself.

"I'll sleep in the chair. Just... wake me if you have a nightmare or something."

Thanks, sis, but I think I'll let you sleep. I feel like I've bothered you enough today.

I spend most of the night staring at the ceiling and in a weird half-asleep, half-awake state. Usually the meds I take in the evening knock me out completely, but tonight I just can't sleep. I'm just about to finally fall asleep when the alarm goes off.

"Ow...", I hear Vi mutter, "This chair is a lot less comfortable than it looks... And how'd you sleep?"  
"I didn't," I say, yawning.

I sit up, reaching for my bag and pulling out some clothes that I had packed yesterday evening, as well another cereal bar, which serves as my breakfast.

"You know we have food here, right?", Vi says.  
"I'm trying to inconvenience Caitlyn as little as I can," I mutter.

Just as I say that, she comes walking down the stairs, already fully dressed. She doesn't look at me, treats me as though I don't exist. She takes a cupcake from the kitchen counter, then looks at Vi, still ignoring me.

"There was a break in at Golver Street last night. Please review the evidence when you get to the office," she says.  
"O-okay..."

Without another word, the sheriff of Piltover leaves the house.

"Is it just me or is it cold in here?", I say.  
"Fuck you," Vi responds, "Take your meds and get dressed so we can get going."

I do as I'm told, and within ten minutes, we're sitting in Vi's car, on the way to college.

"I owe Caitlyn my life. Literally. She saved me," I mutter after several minutes of silence.  
"Well, technically, if you wanna go really deep, your rapist saved your life," Vi responds.

That's a horrible thought. But it's true. If he hadn't raped me, I wouldn't have gotten pregnant, which means I never would've had a miscarriage that caused Caitlyn to feel sorry for me. But then again, if he hadn't raped me, I wouldn't have snapped.  
But... considering what I've been through, I probably would have snapped sooner or later anyway.

"I should probably thank her."  
"That's the worst idea you ever had. Just leave it be, she regrets saving your life that day. She's told me several times."  
"Well that's comforting."  
"What did you expect? Do you know how much it cost the city to rebuild what you destroyed? Not to mention all the lives you destroyed, no amount of money will ever fix that."  
"Could you not... mention that over and over again, please?"  
"... sorry," Vi mutters under her breath as she stops the car, "There. I'll pick you up again when your classes are over."

I nod and grab my bag.

"Oh and... call me this time if you leave earlier," Vi says right before I close the car door.

I stay still for a moment.

"Will do," I say, closing the car door.

I watch her drive off. Is this it? Is this the beginning of us fixing our relationship?

"Hey there!"

I turn around to see Olivia standing in front of me, smiling, as always.

"How's your hand?"  
"Good, thanks again," I say, smiling back.

I'm not going to tell her that I was admitted to the hospital right after leaving her apartment. She doesn't need to know.  
We walk to class together. My professor, despite looking a bit surprised to see me there, doesn't say anything. Which I'm glad about.  
Class goes by without any... incidents. Mostly boring, really. Most of what they're talking about, I already knew.

Olivia and I grab coffee together during lunch, sitting down at a more secluded area of the cafeteria this time. I guess she has a vague idea of what caused my panic attack yesterday.

I feared things would be awkward between us after what happened yesterday, but they aren't. Olivia acts like it never happened. And while knowing that she is attracted to me gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling, I'm thankful I don't have to explain to her why I just up and left after we kissed. I wouldn't know where to start.

… I swear I'm going to tell her the truth eventually. Just... not now.

Once classes are over, Olivia and I walk to the parking lot together. I spot Vi's car, and just as I'm about to tell Olivia 'See you later', she stops me dead in my tracks by saying something I absolutely did not expect.

"You know... when you're not suffering an anxiety attack or breaking your hand, we should go somewhere together sometime."

I stare at her, completely dumbfounded. Is she asking me out on a fucking date? I think something inside me just exploded.

"Are you asking me out?", I ask before I can stop myself.

She laughs.

"Yeah, I think that's what they call that."

I stutter, mumble something not even I can understand. Shit, Jinx, you have no idea how dating works. Your first and only girlfriend was the leader of the street gang that you ended up killing. Every single last member. Except for your sister.

"I, uhm, uhh..."  
"Here."

She hands me a piece of paper with what I assume to be her phone number written on it.

"We don't have any classes tomorrow, so... just text me when you're free. There's a really nice café just down the street from where you live."

She doesn't smile this time. She's grinning. She's grinning the whole I watch her walk to her car.

I have a date. _I have a date_.  
I rush over to Vi's car, tearing open the door.

"Whoa, what got into you?"  
"I think I have a date!"

Vi doesn't look as happy as I though she would

"With that Olivia girl you told me about? Does she... know?"

I sit down on the passenger seat.

"Are you insane? I met her yesterday."  
"Are _you_ insane? What if she finds out?"  
"She won't. I have a new identity. No one is supposed to know who I am. Jinx is dead, my name is Hannah."  
"Yeah but are you really comfortable with lying to your potential new girlfriend?"  
"I'm not lying. Just... not telling her -"  
"- that you used to be a mass murder?"  
"Can't you just be happy for me?"  
"No. No, Jinx, I can't. I didn't want them to let you out. I don't think you're ready for this. You're hardly able to care of yourself."  
"Can you just start the damn car and drive me home?!", I yell.

There it is again. That angry, hateful look on Vi's face.

"Fine," she hisses, starting the car.


	10. Chapter Nine

We're halfway to my apartment when I realize I forgot something at Vi and Caitlyn's place this morning.

"Shit."  
"What now?"  
"I forgot my keys at your place," I mutter.  
"Awesome," Vi says, turning the wheel around, doing a full 180 degree turn in the middle of the road.  
"That was really illegal," I say.  
"So is killing people and blowing up buildings, but we don't talk about that, do we?"  
"Okay you know what, fuck you, Vi. I get that you're jealous because I have a date while your sweetheart is fucking someone else-"

Vi stops the car. She turns her head to look at me, but to my very surprise, she doesn't look angry. She's _smiling_. A twisted, evil smile.

"Get out of my car," she says in an oddly calm voice.  
"What?"  
"You heard me."

I look at her in stunned silence, not moving.

"I only bruised your nose yesterday. You want me to break it? Because I can."

She raises her fist.

" _Do it_ ," I hiss.  
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CAR!"

She gets out of the car, tears the passenger side door open and pulls me out of the car by my hair, then drops me like a hot brick. I fall to the ground, bruising my shoulder. Vi speeds off, damn near running over my legs.  
Staggering, I get to my feet.

Great, what now? I've never navigated this part of Piltover on my own. At least not while thinking straight.  
I just start walking in what I assume to be the right direction. It takes me a good hour but I eventually find Caitlyn's place. Vi's car isn't here, she probably drove to the office. I just hope Caitlyn is here... someone needs to open that door for me.

I take a deep breath and ring the door bell. Once. Twice. No reaction. I'm just about to give up when the door opens.

Piltover's Sheriff looks at me like I'm some kind of disgusting bug.

"What do you want here?"  
"I forgot my keys this morning. They're on the coffee table, if I could just-"

She leaves me standing in front of the door, and within not even ten seconds, returns with my keys. She quite literally throws them at me and then slams the door. Quickly, I put my foot in between the door and the door frame.

"What?!", she hisses.  
"I just – you saved my life that night. I owe my life to you-"  
"You ruined my life. And Violet's. And so many others. I shouldn't have saved you. So, if you want to do me a favour in return – do what I couldn't do. Kill yourself."

She slams the door shut.  
Yep, Vi was right. I should not have brought this up.  
It takes me a second to get over what she just said.  
Maybe she's right. I _should_ kill myself. And it could be so easy, too. If only I had my guns …  
STOP. What are you thinking, Jinx? You got out of the loony bin. You're attending college. You have a date! You got this.

I take a deep breath and then start walking. Not quite sure where. I'll find my way home, somehow. I hope.  
But instead of finding my way to my apartment, I end up at Piltover's police station. Let's be real here. I have no idea how to get home. And my feet are already hurting from walking so much. I need Vi to drive me home.

Taking yet another deep breath, I enter the police station.

Immediately, all eyes on me. Most of the people in this building know who I am.  
The guy at the front desk looks at me as if he's about to grab his gun and shoot me.

"I – uhm... Is Violet here?", I ask.  
"I don't think she wants to see you."  
"Please?"

He sighs and picks up the phone, dialling a short number.

"It's her. She wants to see you," he says, "I know, I told her. But I don't think she's leaving if you don't come see her."

He hangs up the phone and points to his right.

"Room 006."  
"Thanks."

I walk down the narrow hallway. Room 006's door is ajar. Carefully, I poke my head in.

"Vi?"

She doesn't react. I enter the room.

"Uhm... I'm a little lost, I don't know how to get home. Can you drive me?"

Still no reaction.

"Please?"

Nothing.

"Vi, I'm sorry about what I said earlier..."

Still acting as though I don't exist, she gets up, grabs her car keys and leaves the room. I assume this means that I should follow her to her car.

She doesn't say anything the whole drive. No matter how many times I apologize or try to start a conversation, she flat out ignores me. When we arrive at my apartment complex, she closes the door behind me as soon as I get out of the car, doesn't even give me a chance to say Good Bye. So much for fixing our relationship...

My legs feel heavy as I walk up the stairs. I hadn't even realized how late it was. I spent almost three hours wandering through Piltover.  
I unlock my apartment door, dropping my bag as soon as I'm inside. Sighing, I let myself fall onto my bed. I stare at the ceiling for a while before I remember that I have Olivia's phone number in my pocket.

I take the little piece of paper out and stare at it. Even her handwriting is beautiful.  
Do I call her? Or do I text her? Should I wait until tomorrow?  
I grab my cell phone, type in her number and save it. She's one of three contacts in my phone. Vi, my therapist, and now, Olivia.

I start typing a text message.  
"Hi :)"  
No. Too cliche. Backspace, backspace, backspace. Try again.  
"Hey, it's J," backspace, "Hannah. :)"  
I hover my finger over the 'Send' button. Is it too early to text her? She said would could go to the café tomorrow. So... I should message her now so we can agree on a time to meet, right?  
I tap the button. Sent.

I lock my phone and practically throw it across the room. Oh God. I'm nervous like a little kid.  
I stare at the little device that's resting at the foot of my bed. For about ten minutes that feel like hours, nothing happens. Then, the screen lights up and a little sound plays. It makes me jump about three feet in the air.

I grab and unlock my phone within the split of a second.  
Okay, Jinx, chill. Do you want her to know that you've been staring at your phone ever since you sent that message? I close my eyes for a while before I read her response.


	11. Chapter Ten

"I thought you'd never text, I've been waiting all day! :D"

I let out a relieved sigh. So I didn't text her too early.

"I'm sorry," I type, contemplating whether or not I should tell about my fight with Vi, but I eventually decide against it, "I was honestly not sure if it was too early to text you."

He response comes in not even ten seconds after that.

"It's never too early. So, for our coffee date I suggest going out for breakfast. How does 10 o'clock sound to you?"  
"Sounds great :)", I respond, even though I usually don't get up before noon on free days.

Olivia then texts me the exact location and the name of the café she mentioned earlier. We decide to meet there.

We keep on texting for hours, talking about everything and nothing. I'm sleep deprived from not getting any sleep the night before, but I don't want to stop talking to her. Forgetting my worries and just talking about trivialities feels so good. It's almost one o'clock in the morning when I finally fall asleep with my phone in my hand.

~~~

BAM.  
I jerk awake. It takes me a while to realize that it was construction work on the street in front of my apartment complex what woke me up.  
I look at my phone to check the time.  
9:27 am.

SHIT!

I jump out of bed, rush over to my closet, grab one of my fancier T-Shirts and a white pair of skinny jeans, and within record time, I shower, dry my hair get dressed and put on make-up (a little more than I usually do.)  
I run out of the bathroom, almost slipping on the wet floor, throw on a jacket and my shoes, grab my keys and rush out of the door.

It's now 9:42.  
Good. I have more than enough time to walk to the café. My heart is beating outside my chest from me hurrying so much. I take a deep breath and start walking.

It's a beautiful morning. They grey clouds from the past few days have cleared completely. It's warm, but with a cool breeze. It's Friday, not many cars are on the streets because most people are already at work. I don't think I've ever seen this part of town so quiet and calm – if you ignore the construction workers, of course. It's one of the... less beautiful parts of Piltover, but today, it seems beautiful. Beautiful like the sky, the flowers growing next to the sidewalk, … or Olivia's smile.

I'm smiling. Almost tearing up. I've known her for two days and going on this coffee date with her makes me so ridiculously happy. I can't remember the last day that I woke up without thinking about either suicide or homicide first thing.  
Fuck what my therapist says. She's good for me. This is good for me.

I arrive at the café. I've never heard of it before, and as soon as I enter it, I know why.  
This is the kinda place where you'd expect the tumblr girls with their cutesy pastel blogs to take tons of pictures. The furniture, floor and wall are held in mainly pastel pink and white, with a few pastel purple accents here and there.

The cakes and pastries on display look too pretty to be eaten. They're decorated extravagantly, with cream, marzipan, fondant, flowers and all that... cute shit. I feel completely out of place.

"Hannah, over here!"

I look to my right. Olivia is sitting at a table next to a window, waving at me.  
She fits in here perfectly. She's tied her pigtails with white bows today, and is wearing a frilly, pastel pink dress that blends in with the chair she's sitting on. Seeing her like this, as weird as it may sound, makes me wonder if she's a virgin.

I sit down across from her.

"This place is... cute," I say.  
"Not really your kinda thing, huh?"  
"It's more that I'm not used to it."  
"Just wait until you try their cupcakes," she says with that beautiful smile of hers on her lips, "Then you'll just _have_ to love this place."

She hands me the menu. Their cake section is a proud three pages thick. They also have basically every kind of tea and coffee in existence.  
I eventually decide on a caramel latte with extra cream and a cupcake they call "Vanilla temptation". Olivia orders a "Strawberry river cake" and a cup of green tea.

"You look good this morning," she says after a waiter has taken our orders.  
"I feel good," I say, smiling, "Sorry I stopped replying last night, I fell asleep."  
"Am I that boring?", she says jokingly.  
"You're currently one of the most interesting people in my life.  
"You clearly haven't met yourself."

She says that in a rather serious tone. When she notices the confused look on my face, she explains:

"You're different. It feels like you're a riddle, and I have to decipher you. I don't know, something about you... draws me toward you. That's a compliment," she adds quickly, "I don't think I've ever met anyone like you. You're fascinating."

My heart is both melting and pounding outside my chest. At the same time.

The waitress brings our cakes and drinks.  
As soon as Olivia takes the first bite of her cupcake, I understand why the call it "Strawberry river". It seems to be filled with liquefied strawberries. She has to lean over her plate in order to not get any of it on her dress.  
My cupcake is filled with vanilla cream and topped with a white chocolate frosting and decorated with little roses made out of vanilla chocolate. I have a secret weakness for sweet things, and right now, I'm in cake heaven.

"I told you you'd love the cupcakes!", Olivia says, laughing, as it is very obvious that I'm enjoying this sweet piece of goodness.  
"Love isn't even the word," I say, inhaling the rest of my cupcake.

It's not just their cakes. This caramel latte has to be one of the best coffees I've ever had. I might just buy a pastel pink dress and come here more often. While Olivia is dripping liquid strawberries all over the table, I order a piece of their chocolate cheesecake. Which also tastes heavenly.

I lean back in my chair.  
"Thank you," I say.  
"For what?"  
"Showing me this café. I was sceptic at first, but I think they just won another regular costumer."  
"Glad my plan worked out."

She smiles at me. And I smile back. We just sit there for a while, smiling at each other, until the waitress comes by and asks if we'd like to pay. Before I can say anything, Olivia hands her her card and pays for the both of us.

"If I had known that you were paying, I would have asked if it was alright for me to order that cheesecake..."  
"It's alright, really," she smiles, "I asked for the date, so I'm the one paying."

She gets up and walks outside, I follow her.

"You know, if you'd like, you could come with me for a cup of- I mean, you just had coffee - for a glass of water?", she asks, her cheeks blushing slightly.

Heart. Going to explode. Fuck.

"I'd love to," I say.


	12. Chapter Eleven

When we arrive at Olivia's apartment, I get the creeping feeling that she had planned on taking me home with her after going to the café. It's even cleaner than it was last time and there's a bouquet of fresh flowers standing on her coffee table.

"I wish I could afford an apartment like yours," I say as I sit down on her sofa.  
"Let's just say my parents saved some money for my future," she says, "So... what can I get you...? Wine, water...?"

It's both adorable and comforting to see that she's apparently just as nervous as I am.

"Don't you think it's a little early for wine?", I ask.  
"Oh, yeah, of course. I'll get you a glass of water," she mutters, smiling and vanishes into her kitchen, but quickly returns with a glass filled with water.

She hands it to me. I take a sip, feeling awkward. How do dates work? What am I supposed to do?

She sits down next to me, slowly moving closer towards me. She has no idea what the fuck she's doing, fuck, that's so cute.  
She puts one arm around me and looks me deep in the eyes and I turn in to Jinx, the red hot potato. I've never realized how pretty her eyes are. They are a tourquise colour. I don't think I've seen this eye colour before.

"I loved our conversation last night," she whispers against my lips.  
"So did I, more than you can imagine. I love how you make me forget everything and just talk to me like a normal person."

Fuck. I shouldn't have said that.

"Don't other people treat you like a normal person?"  
"Well, I - I don't have a lot of friends, the only person I talk to on a regular basis is my sister, and, what can I say, we... have our differences."  
"Be glad you have her," Olivia says, her eyes fixed on the floor, "My brother and parents died a few years back. We fought a lot too, but there isn't a day where I don't miss them."

I lift her chin to look her in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry...", I whisper, barely audible.

I can tell she's trying very hard not to cry. I take her face in my hands, ready to wipe away any tears that might leave her eyes. But that doesn't happen. Instead, she kisses me. She pulls me closer to her, with no intention to stop kissing me.

I run my hand down her neck, shoulder and side, let it rest on her hip. Do I take this further? Does she want me to take this further?  
I feel her hand creeping under my shirt. Gently, I push her down, so she lays down with me leaning over her. I stop kissing her lips, slowly make my way down to her chest, unbuttoning her dress.

"Hey, Hannah...?"

I look up.

"I – I'm still a virgin."  
"Oh."

I sit up.  
A grin forms on her lips.

"Did I say stop, though?"

Is she sure? She's known me for two days, does she really want me to take her innocence? Not gonna lie, I feel... sort of honoured.  
She grabs me by the neck and pulls me down, kissing me.  
I continue unbuttoning her dress and then, gently, take it off of her.  
Yeah, she was planning this. Her blood red bra matches her panties.

She sits up kissing my lips, then my cheeks, then my neck, gently nibbling on it. I reach around her back and open her bra. It slips off her shoulders like nothing. She takes off my jacket, and then tries to remove my shirt.

I wince. The tattoo!

"What is it?", she asks, and now that my eyes aren't closed, I can take a good look at her.

She's flawless. I mean it. I don't have words to describe her body. She's beautiful.

"My scars... I'm really insecure about them."  
"But I've seen them before..."  
"There's more... my arms are covered, I just... would it be weird if I left my shirt on?"

Ruining it. I'm ruining it. Fuck.

"Not at all," she says, smiling, then she leans in for another kiss.

Relieved, I lay her back down on the sofa. I nibble on her neck, her collarbone. I make my way down, slowly, trying not to miss a single inch of her. Once I've reached her panties, I come back up to kiss her lips. I move my hand between her legs and gently massage her through her panties. Her moans are so soft, I wouldn't be hearing them if my face wasn't so close to hers.

I slip my hand inside her panties. She opens my pants and pulls them down rather aggressively. Her touch between my legs is so gentle, I can barely feel it. And yet, it drives me wild.

I slip one finger inside her and she gasps in response. I try a second, but she's too tight. I make I move my finger in and out painfully slowly.  
She's sunk her teeth into my neck in order to keep silent. I can feel her contracting around my finger, her little moans are getting louder, the pressure of her fingers on my clit harder, but even just the sound of her climaxing makes me get there as well.

She's panting, but one orgasm isn't enough for me. A little rougher than before, I pull down her panties, making my way down between her legs. Gently, I bite her inner thigh. She's shaking with anticipation, and it's just what I want.

I run my finger up and down between her legs, kissing and nibbling on her hips. Inch by inch, my head goes lower, until I've eventually reached her clit. I give it one, quick lick. She winces and I can't help but grin. I give it another, and another, while simultaneously penetrating her with one finger.

Her moans are no longer subtle. Her hands are buried in my hair, her back is lifting off the sofa as I make her climax a second time.

I look up. She's panting, trying to catch her breath. Her hands have let go of my hair and are now motionlessly resting on her thighs. One of the braids has come loose, the little tie has fallen to the floor. It's a beautiful picture.

I crawl up to her face and kiss her.

"I feel like I should thank you for that," she says, letting out a weak laughter.

I smile, brushing some hair out of her face.  
We just lie there for a while. In silence. And I'm so happy, I could cry. Just as I lean in for another kiss, our moment is interrupted by my phone going off at what feels like full volume.

I jump up from the sofa and reach for my phone, that's in my pockets of my jeans lying on the floor. I answer the call, and before I can even say anything-

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, I'VE BEEN RINGING THE DAMN DOOR BELL FOR TEN MINUTES NOW!"

It's Vi.

"I'm – at Olivia's..."  
"WELL THEN GIVE ME HER DAMN FUCKING ADDRESS, YOU HAVE A THERAPIST APPOINTMENT IN TWENTY MINUTES!"

Shit, I completely forgot about that.  
I tell Vi the address, then hang up the phone and get dressed.

"I'm really sorry, I have an appointment that I completely forgot about," I say while zipping up my pants.

Olivia smiles at me.

"It's okay."

She gets up from the sofa, pulls me into a hug and kisses me.

"Text me when you get home, will you?"  
"Will do," I say, smiling back.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Vi pulls up just as I exit Olivia's apartment complex. She must've been flooring that gas pedal.  
I get in the car, and for a while, Vi just stares at me. Then, she reaches into her pockets, pulls out a piece of gum and hands it to me.

"You smell like sex."

With my cheeks bright red, I take the gum.

"So I'm guessing that date went well," Vi says, pushing the gas pedal to the floor.  
"You could say that."  
"She didn't say anything about the tattoo?"  
"She didn't see it."  
"You left your shirt on?"

I think if Vi was rolling her eyes much harder right now, she'd cause brain damage.

"The fuck was I supposed to do? Say, 'Oh by the way before I take your innocence, I used to be a serial killer.'?"

Vi slams the brakes, looking at me, utterly shocked.

"Her _innocence_? You took her virginity? Fuck, Jinx, do you understand what you've done? If she finds out who you are she'll be traumatized for life!"  
"She won't find out! I could get the tattoo removed -"  
"That's not the point. If it's not the tattoo, it'll be something else. You can't hide something like this from your lover. This is why you don't go on a date with someone you just met."

Wrong. You're wrong. She'll never know. Why give me a new identity when I'm supposed to tell people who I am anyway? What do you know about relationships, anyway? You've only ever been in one when you were 17 and it didn't even last a year. And now you've been trying to get with your boss for f _ive years_.  
All these things are running through my head, but I remain silent. Neither of us say a word until we arrive at my therapist's.

"See you in an hour," Vi mumbles after I get out of the car.

I check my phone. I'm ten minutes late. My therapist is not going to be very happy.  
I hurry into the building. I knock on her office door, and, without waiting for her to tell me to come in, I enter the room.

She's sitting in her chair, looking at me over the top of her glasses.

"You're late," she says, while looking at her watch.  
"I know, I'm sorry. I was at a friend's and forgot the time," I say.

I'm not going to tell her that I was on a date. Let alone that I had sex. She's just going to judge me for it, like Vi did.  
I sit down.

"What happened to your hand?", she asks, pointing at my bandaged left hand.  
"I fell down the stairs."

She looks at me, is practically scanning me. She doesn't believe me.  
Time to change the topic.

"Why did you never tell me that I had a miscarriage?"  
"I thought you knew. I was waiting on you to bring it up."  
"I didn't remember. I relived it yesterday, ended up in the hospital."  
"Does knowing it change anything within you?"  
"Of course!", I scoff, "It's the entire reason why I'm still alive! If that hadn't happened, they would've shot me, given the chance."  
"You seem aggravated today."  
"I had a fight with Vi."  
"Again? What were you fighting about?"

I don't respond. My therapist sighs and scribbles something on her clipboard.

"You said you were with a friend."  
"Yes."  
"Who? Your friend from college – what was her name?"  
"Olivia. Yes."  
"I'm glad you found a friend."

She knows. She knows there's more to this.

"What did you do together?"

Had really good, desperately needed sex.

"We studied together."

Silence. Again, she isn't buying it.

"How is your medication working? Do you remember to take it every day?"

I can feel all the colour drain from my face. I forgot to take my pills this morning.  
Fuck. _Fuck_.

"Jinx?"  
"Yeah. I mean, yes. Meds are fine."  
"You didn't take them, did you?"

Silence.

"There's more, am I right?"

Again, I don't respond.

"You slept with her, didn't you?"  
"No one can forbid me to be sexually active."  
"That is true. But being so intimate with someone you just met, in your situation -"  
"She's good for me."  
"That's what you think now."  
"What do you know?"  
"I have studied the human mind for seven years. I've seen you struggle first hand, I've seen what you are capable of doing. I probably know you better than you know yourself."  
"No, you don't."  
"You're not ready for a relationship."  
"Fuck you."

My therapist stares at me in stunned silence.

"You know when's the last time I heard these words from your mouth?", she leans forward and looks at me with narrow eyes, "When you had just arrived at the hospital and didn't quite understand that I was there to help you."  
"You're not trying to help me. You're trying to ruin the only good thing I have right now."  
"I'm shocked, Jinx. Within two days, I feel like you've lost at least two years of progress."

I don't answer. I just get up and leave, slamming the door behind me. I hear her calling after me, but I don't care. I don't need to hear this.  
Fuck her. Fuck all of you.  
I sit down on the sidewalk, playing random games on my phone until Vi arrives to pick me up.

"You're done early," she says as I get into her car.  
"Yeah. She had another appointment, so she had to cut ours short."

Lies. Lies. Lies.  
I know Vi knows something isn't right. But she doesn't say anything about it, apparently finding me to be more of an adult than my therapist does. Which is sad, really.

Who does she think she is? Who do they think they are? I'm 27. I can decide for myself who I want to be in a relationship with. I don't need anyone's opinion.  
I haven't even arrived home when I text Olivia.

"I've just had had a really stressful hour. Could you come over?"

I'm just getting out of Vi's car when she responds.  
"On my way. :)"

I slam the car door shut, without saying Good Bye to my sister, and rush upstairs to touch up my make up and at least comb my hair.  
Then, remembering my little break down from the other day, I clean up the mirror shards and the broken cup that are still on my bedroom floor. The door bell rings as I'm scrubbing the dried tea out of my carpet.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

I put my night stand over the wet spot and hide the bucket and sponge in my bathroom. Then, after checking my looks in the mirror and taking a deep breath, I open the door for my new girlfriend.  
…It feels so good to call her that.

She greets me with a kiss. She's no longer wearing the pink dress she was wearing this morning, but a simple white shirt and a pair of blue skinny jeans.

"What happened?", she asks, sitting down on my bed.  
"I got into a fight with..."

Do I tell her I'm in therapy? She knows I have issues, but... should she know this?

"... my sister," I finish.  
"You two do fight a lot, huh?"  
"Yeah. Mind you, she has her reasons. I fucked up bad in the past."  
"Haven't we all at some point?"

Well, most people don't murder 150 people in the span of a month. Or... ever.

"I guess," I say.  
"I'm sorry, you must be in a not so good place currently."  
"I'd say we both have our issues."

Your whole family is dead. It's on my mind, but I won't say it.  
My parents have been dead for almost 20 years now, too, but she doesn't need to know this.

"So, what about your parents? Do you fight with them a lot, too?"

Welp. Apparently she does.

"They're dead. They died when me and my sister were still kids, our house burnt down."

Because I set it on fire.

"Oh. I'm sorry."  
"They were both abusive, so it wasn't that much of a loss. At least, my sister and I had each other. I would have died at like 15 if it wasn't for her."  
"What went wrong?"  
"I fucked up. Bad. I don't think you're ready to hear that story."  
"You'll tell me, though, will you? Eventually."  
"Eventually."

We look at each other. I need her, I need her right now.  
It's been so long since I've been in a sexual relationship, I've forgotten how good it feels.  
I basically jump Olivia with my kiss. For a second, I feel like I've moved too fast, but then she kisses me back.

"I'd be honoured to be your stress relief," she whispers against my lips, grinning.

This girl was a virgin not even two hours ago. Fuck, she drives me wild. I skip the whole take-off-her-shirt-thing and go straight to her pants and rip them off of her.  
She's still wearing the blood red, lacy panties. They emphasise her curves perfectly. I slip my hand under her shirt, gently caressing her breasts.

Gently, she pushes me away and makes me watch her unbutton her shirt. Button for button... I think I'm losing my mind. Once her shirt is unbuttoned, she leans in for another kiss, carefully pushing me down, until I'm laying on my back. She's sitting on my hips, nibbling on my neck.

I rip her shirt off and unhook her bra, almost breaking it.  
It's a glorious view, seeing her on top of me like this. In the dim light and without her glasses that have gotten lost somehow, she almost looks a bit like...

"Tell me when you're comfortable with taking your shirt off," she whispers into my ear.  
"I need time," I whisper back, even though I'd give everything I have to feel her lips all over me.

She just smiles at me. I'm too lost in her eyes to realize that she's slowly unzipping my pants and pulling them down. They fall to the floor and I barely realize it. She leans in for another kiss, and then makes her way down to my thighs. She's caressing my inner thighs while slowly, sloowly pulling down my panties.

I can feel her shaking slightly, she must be nervous because she's never done this before. I sit up and push her onto the bed, kissing her lips, gently nibbling on her lower lip, then making my way down, leaving love bites on her neck and her hips.

As much as I love these panties on her, I'll have to remove them now. I pull them down, fast. I don't wait, I skip playing with her like I did last time and go straight to town. She grabs my hair, pulling it, a little harder than she probably intended to, but I like it. I enter her with my middle finger and soon feel that she's wet enough for me to slip a second finger in. She's tensing up, pushing my head away.

"I don't want this to be one sided," she says, panting, and before I know it, she's crawled under me and I'm sitting on her face.

It's something I've always felt awkward doing, but right now, I don't mind it.  
I feel her perfect lips on my clit, she's starting slowly with kisses and quick, subtle licks, but quickly progresses to long, deep licks.

I bite my right first in order not to scream. For a first timer, she's doing a damn good job.  
I soon can't keep silent anymore. The walls of my apartment complex are paper thin, I half expect a neighbour to be pounding on the door any second now.

I reach for her hand and squeeze it tight as I climax.  
She crawls out from under me, looking content.  
Oh, you didn't think this was it, did ya?

I bite her neck, a little harder than before, but she seems to be enjoying it. I keep my head right there, while reaching down between her legs with my hand. I start with massaging her clit, then penetrate her with the two fingers, constantly alternating between the two.

I can't tell if her moans only seem so loud because my ear is right next to hear mouth of if she's actually trying to let the neighbours know what's going on. She reaches down, finding my clit, massaging it. I bite her neck to stop myself from screaming once more.

I can feel her contracting around my fingers, her nails are buried in my back, I'm reasonably sure it's going to leave a mark, even through the shirt.

I think I can hear her gasping my name as I push her to the finish line. It makes me feel like my whole body is on fire, I let go of her neck, moaning loudly as I, too, climax once again.

Silence surrounds us. For what feels like forever, the only thing that can be heard is the both of us trying to catch our breaths.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

I awaken from what feels like a very deep slumber.  
Blood. Blood on my hands, blood everywhere... and the sound of Vi crying in the distance.  
What happened?

 _~_

 _[Olivia's POV]_

It's been two weeks since Hannah and I became a couple.  
She's... special. I don't know, I've never met anyone like her. It feels like she's a video game and I have to keep unlocking level by level to unlock the final secret, every conversation, every kiss is a new level, an I'll have to keep digging. I'm captivated, I can't let go, I have to know everything about her.

It sounds funny, doesn't it?  
I've kissed her, I've been as close to her a person can possibly be to another human being.  
And yet, I feel like I haven't even scratched the surface of who Hannah Rosecorn is.  
Is this what they call love?  
She's attractive. I've never been able to hold deep conversations like this with anyone else before. And yet, she barely lets me know anything about her.

I know what her favourite colour is. I know what she likes to eat. I know she has a weak spot for kittens. I know she hates birds. I know who her favourite Author is, what kind of movies she likes to watch, how she likes her tea and how much coffee she needs to wake up in the morning.

I know so much about her, and yet it feels like I have no idea who she is.  
She loves me with all her heart and I can't for the life of me figure out why. Her heart seems so fragile, I could never hurt her. But I would lie if I sad I love her. I met her three weeks ago. I'm attracted to her, I'm completely captivated by her and I have a crush on her. But can you really speak of "love" after not even a month of knowing each other?

I'm saying this, and yet I know I'd be heartbroken if I lost her.  
I've never felt anything like this for another person.  
Hannah is... special.

She's on her way to me and I get unreasonably happy every time I get to see her.  
She has this smell to her... this smell that's sweet, yet bitter. A smell that makes me fly to cloud nine every time it hits me.  
And don't get me started on the sex. I was a virgin and convinced I'd save myself for marriage or, at the very least, for someone I'd know for a long time.

But after only a few days, I wanted nothing more than her being the person to take my innocence.  
I don't have anything to compare her to, but every orgasm she gives me is an explosion, a firework. I have never seen her fully naked but I long to.

Today will be the day. I don't want her to be ashamed of her scars. If anything, her scars make her even more beautiful. I want to inspect every inch of her, show her that she has nothing to be afraid or ashamed of.

I know I said it's too early to speak of love, but, maybe, just maybe, this is meant to be forever. I have this feeling deep in my heart.

The doorbell rings, and I rush to open the door for her. It's a hot spring day, but she's wearing a long sleeved shirt, as always.

We waste no time. She kisses me, and I kiss her back. Drunken with love, we tumble into my bedroom, which has seen our love so many times before.

I pin her to the bed, kiss her neck. She's softly gasping and panting. She rarely moans. I try to make her moan every time, because it lets me know I'm doing something right.

I reach her chest, creep my hands under her shirt and carefully try to push it up. She grasps my hands and turns me over. She's sitting on top of me, playfully fighting my hands off her shirt and then kisses me like she does. There is no struggling against her grasp, I give in to the wave of lust that overcomes me.

~

She's cuddled up next to me, breathing evenly and quietly. She said something about another fight with her sister, I guess she's exhausted. She doesn't usually fall asleep after sex, but now – she's out like a light.

Ever since we got together, I don't remember a single day where she and her sister didn't fight. I've heard her sister yell at her over the phone multiple times, but never met her in person.  
She's stopped driving her to school. I don't mind though, this way, I pick her up, making her the first person I see every morning. We usually spend the afternoon and evening together, with the occasional day off.

I have never been able to convince her to stay the night, though. And she never let me stay the night at her place. She claims it's because she takes up the whole bed and talks in her sleep. I don't buy it. Right now, she's curled up into a little ball and I can hardly even hear her breathe.

It's like her entire life is surrounded by mystery.  
What are you hiding under that shirt, Hannah? I look at her, her closed eyes and her slightly parted lips. Is it really scars what you're ashamed of? I sit up, removing the woollen blanket that has been covering the both of us. She didn't even bother putting her panties back on, she's naked from her hips downward. She's laying on her left side.

There's something... something on her hip. Something blue. I take another look at her to make sure she's still sleeping soundly. My curiosity gets the best of me. Carefully, I push up her shirt up to about her breasts.

It's... a tattoo. Blue clouds and what looks to be pink bullets. I could swear... I've seen this somewhere before.

Suddenly, my whole world comes to a halt. It feels like my body is glass, and it's shattering. Every single inch is breaking. I feel sick and at the same time, horribly numb.

I _have_ seen this before.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_[Olivia's POV]_

She's moving. I'm frozen in place but I can feel her looking at me.  
Silence. Numbing silence, silence that is suffocating me.

"Fuck," I hear her mutter when she finally seems to have realized that I... know.

She sits up and takes my hand. My stomach cramps up, I want to vomit, but I'm completely frozen.

"Olivia?"

I used to like her voice. But now it just sounds shrill, makes my ears hurt.  
I can't speak, can't move. Can't cry.  
She takes her hand off mine and covers her face.

"I'm so sorry."

She's crying.

"P... please leave."

My voice sounds like it's coming from miles away. It doesn't sound like me.

"Olivia, please," she takes my face into her hands, makes me look at her, "I love you."

A sound escapes my lips, a sound I didn't thing I was able to produce. It's loud, shrill, almost inhumane. I slap her, so hard it makes my hand hurt.  
My whole body starts shaking, I crawl off the bed, walking backwards until my back hits the wall.  
I want to cry, but my eyes are dry.

All I hear is her crying. Then, I start screaming.

"GET OUT! GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!"

Tears are now streaming down my face.  
She gets off the bed and takes a step towards me. I rush out of the bedroom, into the kitchen, grabbing the biggest knife I own.  
She follows me.

"STAY AWAY!", I scream, pointing the knife at her.

She's raising her hands as if to demonstrate she's not going to hurt me.

"I was in a mental hospital for the past five years..."  
"Five years? That's all you got?"

My voice is breaking. I'm coughing and gagging from crying so much.

"I'm on a shitton of meds..."  
" _YOU. KILLED. MY. ENTIRE. FAMILY._ "

Silence. Her face loses all of its colour.

"No...", she whispers, barely audible.  
"MY BROTHER'S FIANCÉE WAS PREGNANT. THEY WENT OUT TO BUY A CRIB FOR THE BABY, A PINK CRIB, IT WAS A GIRL. THEY WERE JUST ABOUT TO PAY WHEN AN EXPLOSION ERRUPED ON THE FLOOR BENATH THEM. MY BROTHER CALLED ME, WITH FEAR IN HIS VOICE, TOLD ME SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I HEARD PEOPLE SCREAMING IN THE BACKGROUND, I HEARD MY BROTHER CALL OUT FOR MY MOM. I HEARD THIS LAUGHTER – YOUR LAUGHTER! I HEARD MY DAD PLEADING FOR HIS FAMILY'S LIFE AND YOU – Do you know what you said?"

She stares at me, slowly shaking her head.

"You said," I swallow, just barely stopping myself from vomiting, "'Fine', is what you said. You shot my father and then told my brother to get my mom and his fiancée and run. And then..."

She covers her ears with her hands, continuing to shake her head.

"Then, as my brother was running, with me still on the phone, as I could hear him cry... you fired the next bomb. And then all I heard was the on-hook signal."  
"I'm not this person anymore," she whispers, "Nothing can undo what I've done, but trust me, I've had five years to deeply think about what I've done. I feel deep remorse for every single life I took..."  
"I thought they executed you."  
"I suffered a miscarriage the day they caught me, the Sheriff took pity on me..."  
"Stop talking. Just – Just get out of my life and never return."

She looks at me, not moving.

"I love you," she whispers.

I don't react. She starts sobbing, gets up and grabs her things.

"I love you," she says once more as she's about to leave my apartment.

Then, she's shaken by a crying fit that reminds me of the breakdown I suffered the day my family died. I can still hear her cry after she closes the door behind her.

I stay on the same spot, still grasping the knife, until I can't hear her anymore and quite a while after that. It must've been at least ten minutes that I spent standing there before the knife clatters to the floor.

I can barely make it to the bathroom, where I vomit violently. My throat burns from the stomach acid, but I can't help myself, I scream. I scream until I'm out of air. I cry in silence for a while, before I start screaming again. This goes on for something in between of ten minutes and two hours.

Exhausted, I eventually pass out on the bathroom floor.

~

It's early in the morning when I finally regain consciousness.  
My whole body is aching from sleeping on the bathroom floor.  
I feel empty. I sit up looking around, hoping for a sign that tells me yesterday was just a horrible, horrible dream. But everything is just as I remember. The bathroom door is open, I can see the knife laying on the floor from where I'm sitting.

Staggering, I get to my feet to brush my teeth. The girl in the mirror looks tired.  
After cleaning my face, I open my laptop to write a quick E-Mail to College to announce my absence today. There's no way in hell I'm leaving the house today.  
I'm too exhausted and – most importantly, too scared to run into Hannah. Or... whatever her real name is.

With shaking hands I reach for my phones to check for missed calls or texts from her. To my very surprise, not a single notification.  
I wonder if she even made it home last night.  
No – I don't care. I hope she got run over by a bus. Or even better: Maybe she killed herself.

I can't help but feel sad at that thought. I hate admitting this to myself, but after everything we had... do I really want her dead?  
Sighing, I dial a number I didn't think I'd ever dial again.  
It rings for way too long.

"Hello?"  
"Mr. Taper? It's Olivia."  
"Olivia!", he sounds surprised, "Did something happen?"

I can hear voices in the background. He seems to be out somewhere.

"It's complicated," I whisper into the phone, holding back the tears, "Could we talk?"  
"You know, I'm out of country right now-"  
"I slept with the person who killed my family."

Silence. Then, I hear rustling and muffled voices as he seems to be excusing himself.  
After a moment, he picks up the phone again.

"I think I have a little time to talk to you. Now start over, what happened?"

And then I start talking.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_[Olivia's POV]  
_  
"I'm taking the next plane back," Mr. Taper says once I'm finished.  
"Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt your vacation," I say, biting my lower lip.  
"We ended our therapy a year ago, but I promised you I'd always be there for you. And I keep my promises."  
"I know, thank you."  
"Olivia?"  
"Yes?"  
"There is, however, one important question I need to ask you right now."  
"Yes...?"  
"Do you love her?"

I should be saying, no, _screaming_ 'No'. I should be offended that he even asked. But I...

"I don't know," I whisper, so quietly I'm unsure whether he even heard me.

Silence on the other end.

"See me in my office tomorrow at noon."  
"Okay. I'll be there."

I put the phone down again. Silence surrounds me.  
I should delete her number. I should delete her number right now.  
Fuck, I've only known her for three weeks. Why am I even wasting another single thought on her?  
A first tear makes its way down my cheek. Don't cry now, she isn't worth it.  
But there's no fighting it – within a few minutes, I'm crying loudly while pressing a pillow to my face and rocking back and forth on my sofa.

My crying soon turns into screaming. I'm mad. Mad at Hannah, mad at myself for falling for her, mad at the universe. Haven't I been through enough? Was this really necessary? I haven't felt this loved and wanted since they died – only to find out that the person who made me feel loved is the reason they're dead. And not just that – she terrorized the entire city. She killed so many more people than just my family. A monster. I fell for a monster. I bury my face into the pillow and scream, over and over again, until my throat is sore, until I'm too exhausted to scream.

The crying fit goes as fast as it came. Now I just feel... numb.

The day drags on.  
Everything feels like a fever dream. Like I'm floating through the day, everything I see is fuzzy, every sound I hear is muffled. I keep falling asleep only to jerk awake after an hour or so, hearing my brother's screams and my dad's pleading in my dreams.  
Sometime around noon I try eating something, but I can't get anything down. I try reading, but I can't concentrate. I try watching TV but what's happening on the screen just flies past me.

Every minute, every second, I expect Hannah to call, send a text or ring the door bell.  
After all her excuses, her crying and her telling me how much she loves me, I find it hard to believe that she'd just get over this break up. Especially since she doesn't exactly seem like the most stable person. So, apart from napping a lot and being shaken by random crying fits, I spend most of my day staring at my phone.

When by midnight my phone still hasn't gone off one single time, I'm convinced she's killed herself. Part of me is relieved about that... and another part of me wants to go straight after her. And yet another part wants to text her to see of she's okay. I resist the temptation and decide to just go to bed. I take a sleeping pill or three, barely making it to my bed before falling into a deep, but uneasy slumber.

~l~

I awake after a full ten hours of sleep, but I don't feel recovered in any way.  
I check my phone and my heart sinks when I see that I have an unread text message.  
With shaking hands, I open it.  
It's from Mr. Taper. I let out a relieved sight as I read what he has sent me.

"I hope you're okay. Don't forget our appointment today at noon."

It is now 10:13. I get up to get ready.  
I'm already undressed and standing in front of the shower when I decide "fuck it."  
I throw on a pair of sweatpants and the first Shirt I grab from my closet. A little deodorant and I'm good to go. I don't even bother to comb my hair. I just... don't care.

I eat a small bowl of cereal for breakfast and then leave the house.  
I arrive at Mr. Taper's office half an hour early, but he's already there waiting for me.  
I haven't seen him in over a year. His hair has gone all grey and he has a different pair of glasses.

His office, however, hasn't changed. I swear, he even still has the same plant sitting on the windowsill.  
He sits down and gestures me to sit down on the chair next to him.

"How did you spend yesterday?", he asks.  
"I didn't," I say, "I mean... I slept a lot."  
"You still look tired."  
"I feel tired. I guess depression does that to people."  
"If I'm not mistaken, you still take your Anti-Depressants."  
"Yeah, once every three days, like you told me to last time we saw each other."  
"I think you should go from every three days to every other day. At least for now."

I nod.

"Have you thought about the question I asked you right before we ended our conversation yesterday?"  
"Yes."  
"And?"  
"I should be offended you even asked."  
"Yes, you should. But are you?"  
"I mean... when you're with someone and you find out they've been cheating, you don't instantly stop loving them. That's why it hurts so much."  
"That is correct," Mr. Taper says, "But what does that mean for you?"

It takes me a minute to respond.

"I wouldn't call it 'love', but the feelings I had for her aren't quite gone just yet."  
"And you're ashamed of that?"  
"She killed my family."  
"Indeed she did. But sometimes we fall for bad people. This is not your fault."

Silence surrounds us for a while.

"Has she ever been abusive or violent towards you?"  
"No. Quite the contrary, she was loving and sweet..."  
"Would you ever consider giving her a second chance?"  
"No," I burst, but after a few seconds I add, "At least not if I don't get a very clear explanation for why she did what she did."  
"Well, as it so happens, I called a colleague of Piltover's Insane Asylum, which is where Hannah Rosecorn spent the past five years. I'm not allowed to tell you any details, but let me reassure you that she is indeed a very disturbed individual. With the list of disorders they diagnosed on her I'm truly not surprised that she snapped. All the more shocked am I about the fact that they released her this early. Had this decision been up to me, she'd still be locked up and would never get free. I don't think someone this disturbed can ever be fixed."  
"So... what are you suggesting?"  
"That you forget what happened, as hard as it may seem. Under no circumstances should you consider taking her back."

Deep down, I knew he'd say this. Deep down, I knew that I shouldn't even think about giving her a second chance. But it still hurts.

"I assume you haven't been to college yesterday."  
"Yes."  
"I want you to go back tomorrow. The distraction is what you need."  
"What if I see her there?"  
"For some reason, I seriously doubt this. However if you do, I want you to treat her like any other of your classmates."

When I go to class the next day, I see that he was right. She isn't here.  
Nor is she the next day. Or the day after that. Or the rest of that week, for that matter. Maybe she really _did_ kill herself.  
But just when you think you get your life back on track...


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_A/N: Couldn't wait with uploading this one. Sorry not sorry._

 _[Olivia's POV]_

I did everything to forget about what happened. I deleted her number, all our pictures, stopped going to the café, concentrated on my studies, went out a lot with friends, even bought new sheets for my bed and threw the old ones away.  
The past week I have done nothing but tried not to think about it. And it almost worked.

It is Saturday evening, I'm doing my homework. Most of my friends already have plans for today, so it looks like I'm alone tonight. I've already looked up movies I can watch later so I won't be alone with myself and my thoughts.  
Schizophrenia. My homework is about Schizophrenia. I can't concentrate.  
Then, I hear a sound. Knocking. Someone's knocking on my apartment door. I put the book down, wondering why they didn't just ring the bell.  
The knocking keeps growing louder with seemingly every step that I take towards the door.

I open it and –

"Hi, sweetheart!"

My whole body goes ice cold within the split of a second and with a sharp inhale I can feel my mouth getting dry. Hannah... It's... Hannah. Wha- What is she doing here?! I want to run, but I'm frozen in place. I can't move. Every second feels like an hour as my eyes travel down her face and body.  
The smile on her face is so wide it seems unnatural. She's skinnier, a lot skinnier than I remember her, so skinny that I wonder how she managed to lose this much weight in just a week. She's wearing a tank top, but I can barely make out her tattoo underneath all of the fresh cuts, some of which are still bleeding. The shadows underneath her eyes are so dark, it looks like she has two black eyes and she looks – and smells – like she hasn't showered since we last saw each other.

"Wh-what are you doing here?"  
"You told me to come over, silly!"

She holds up her phone as if to show me a text message. But I'm staring at a black screen – that is also cracked. As a matter of fact, the phone is so damaged, I seriously doubt it even works.

"Did I, now," I breathe, "Because you know, I'm... really busy with studying right now..."  
"Studying," she repeats in a very weird voice, as if she didn't know what the word meant.

I have no idea what to say or how to react.

"Yeah... you haven't been to college in a few days... is everything alright?"

She tilts her head.

"What are you talking about? I haven't missed a single class!"

What shoul I do? Do I call the police? She isn't threatening me. Maybe an ambulance would be more appropriate – considering her condition.

"What's wrong?", she asks, "Are you going to let me in? I brought that movie you wanted to watch-"  
"Look, Hannah, I'm sorry, but I'm really busy right now. Maybe... maybe some other day? I'll call you, okay?", I say, and without waiting for her to respond, I close the door.  
"Okay, I love you!", I hear her say from the other side of the door.

My heart is beating outside my chest and my stomach is cramping up.  
I rush to the bathroom, but it's all just dry heaves.  
Oh God, what do I do? She's completely lost her mind! She seems to be thinking that everything is fine between the two of us.  
Should I call Mr. Taper? I should.

Staggering, I get to my feet and grab my phone.  
He doesn't pick up.

"I am currently unable to answer your call. Feel free to leave a message after the signal."

As soon as I hear the BEEP, I burst into tears.

"She's here – or at least she was, she just turned up on my doorstep! I think she's lost her mind, I don't know what to do, please call me back as soon as possible!"

And what now? Police? She wasn't threatening me.  
Ambulance? What would I tell them where to go? Who says she even went home?  
Call a friend? All my friends are out tonight.  
Oh God, what if she finds out who my friends are? Would she hurt them? Would she hurt me?

I can't stop crying. This is a full blown panic attack. I rush over to the door and double and triple lock it. Then, I make sure I lock all the windows. I turn off all the lights and sit down on my bed, wrapping myself in the blanket.

My heart still hasn't stopped pounding. I sit on my bed, staring into the darkness, jumping at every sound, until I eventually pass out from sheer exhaustion.

~l~

"Good morning!"

My eyes fly open at the sound of Hannah's voice. She's sitting on my chest, her face inches away from mine. Her bloodshot eyes are staring right into my soul.

"How did you get in?!", I shriek.  
"I know where you keep your spare key, silly!", she says, smiling.

I don't have a spare key. How the fuck did she get in?!  
I try pushing her off me, but she isn't moving.  
She just... sits there and stares at me. I feel increasingly more ill with every second. After a while I'm convinced I'm going to throw up all over her face. But just as I'm about to gag, she gets off me.

"I made you breakfast!", she says, putting a tray on the bed.

Tea, a croissant stuffed with chocolate, fruit salad, a bowl of my favourite brand of cereal.

"I made that croissant myself," she says proudly, "There's a lot more in the kitchen."  
"The kitchen? You made these _in my kitchen_?! How long have you been in here?!"  
"I woke up around five and couldn't fall back asleep so I decided to come over."

What the fuck, _what the fuck_.

"I broke up with you," I burst.

She laughs as if I had just told her a hilarious joke.

"You're so funny, Liv!"

I push the tray off the bed, both the cereal bowl and the tea cup break.

"No! I broke up with you! I know who you are, I know what you are! Even just looking at you makes me sick! For the love of God, get out of my apartment!"

Her smile vanishes.

"Oh... okay, I guess I'll leave then."

I watch her as she leaves my bedroom. Then; absolute silence. Shaking, I get out of bed, shuffling to the kitchen. I'm just about to open the fridge to grab a bottle of water when something stops me dead in my tracks.

She's standing next to the sink, her face wet with tears. In her right hand – a knife.

"How could you?", she sobs.  
"Hannah... put that down..."

She takes a step towards me.

"I love you! I thought you loved me too!"  
"Hannah, put the knife down."  
"We're perfect together!"

I have to call the police. I rush back to the bedroom to grab my phone, Hannah at my heels.  
I grab it, she grabs my wrist and raises the hand she holds the knife with.  
This is it. This is how I die. I close my eyes.

I feel a sharp pain in my hand that causes me to drop the phone. I open my eyes to see that she has pushed the knife straight through the back of my hand.  
Blood is gushing out of the wound. In complete shock and disbelief, I stare at the blood that's running down my arm.

"Were you going to call the police on me? Is that how much you hate me?!", she shrieks, tears streaming down her face.  
"Yes! Yes it is!", I respond, now crying as well.

She throws the knife to the floor.

"How could you?"  
"Please, please just get out," I whimper.

She lifts her head, staring at me. Then, she screams, so loud and shrill it seems inhumane. She raises her fist and punches the window next to my bed, it shatters.  
In horror, I watch her jump out the window.  
I live on the second floor, so I know the fall won't kill her.  
I can still hear her cry and scream as she runs away from my apartment complex.  
My knees give in and slowly, I sink to the floor.


	19. Chapter Eightteen

_[Vi's POV]_

"Good morning."

The words are whispered against my lips and followed up by a soft kiss.  
I open my eyes to see Caitlyn lying next to me, smiling.

"Morning," I whisper back.

You're confused? Let me explain.

After my fucked up sister started her new relationship, ours went down the drain. The little trust we had built up over the past few months was gone completely. All we ever did was fight. And most of the time, I wasn't even the one who started it.

All I ever heard from her was Olivia. She stopped seeing her therapist, insisting she'd be fine on her own. I told her that a big part of her probation is the requirement to see a therapist. So she went, grudgingly, every other appointment.  
I honestly stopped giving a fuck. I know she's my responsibility, but you can't fix stupid.  
But she's my sister, whether I like it or not. The only family I have left. It gets you thinking, you know?

Then came the day where we had a particularly bad fight. She told me she didn't need me.  
Fuck, I don't need or want her either, but deep down, it still hurt.  
I was more broken up about this whole thing than I care to admit.  
So I did something I never do – I got drunk.

Cait came home that day, yelling at me because I didn't show up for work.  
And I just started talking, the alcohol loosened my tongue, words fell out of my mouth and I couldn't stop it. I told her everything. Why Jinx is as fucked up as she is, what we've been through together and – that she makes me feel at home. More at home than I've ever felt in my entire life.  
I'm surprised she even listened. By the end of it, somewhere in between of me crying and screaming and drunkenly confessing my undying love to her, she kissed me.

And that's all it was. You'd expect we had sex that night, but we didn't. She just held me all night, kissed my forehead and whispered sweet nothings into my ears.  
And we kinda went from there.

Does Jayce know, you ask? I don't know and I don't care. They're technically still a couple, but their relationship has been rocky ever since they decided to try it again. They've barely talked in weeks. I should feel bad for him – but honestly, I don't.

That was about two weeks ago. And for the first time in forever, I'm happy. The only thing leaving a sour taste is Jinx. I call her every other day, to make sure she's alive. It's been three days since I last heard from her and I'm already dreading the phone call I'm going to have to make this evening.  
I can already hear her snap at me.

"Everything's fine. Now fuck off, Olivia's going to pick me up soon."

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that Olivia chick is a great person, but _fuck_ that bitch. She probably doesn't even realize what she's doing to my sister. Heck, Jinx doesn't even realize what she's doing to herself. I just hope her therapist eventually manages to talk some sense into her.

"Everything okay?"

Cait pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah," I mutter while getting up, "It's just... I'll have to call Jinx sometime this evening."  
"You know," Cait says as she's getting up herself, "I just hope she snaps again so we can lock her back up."  
"Or just flat out kill her this time," I mutter under my breath.

Cait kisses my cheek and then goes downstairs to make coffee.  
I take a quick shower and then join her for breakfast.

"Anything important today?", I ask as I grab one of her famous cupcakes.  
"No, it's been an awfully quiet few days."

Cait has that stern look on her face. She's worried about something.

"It's like the calm before the storm," she takes a sip of her coffee, "Do you remember? A few days before she turned up, we were bored to death at work, too."

She puts her coffee down and shakes her head.

"I don't know, I have this gut feeling..."  
"Or consider this: We're lucky and crimes rates actually went down for good," I say, grinning.

She smiles back.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's nothing."

We walk out of the house hand in hand, but each take our own car to work.

I don't remember a day ever dragging on this slowly. Absolutely nothing happens until sometime around noon, when someone reports a drug deal at the other part of the city.  
The whole station jumps at the call. Everyone wants to go and Caitlyn has to raise her voice to make everyone shut the hell up. She then chooses two young policemen and sends them off.

"A drug deal? That's all we get?", I mutter as I sit back down in my chair, glancing at my gauntlets. Man, I miss using those.  
"At least we got _something_. Yesterday, we got nothing at all," Caitlyn says, handing me a donut.

I take a big bite as I hear a knock at the door.

"Come in!", I call out, expecting one of my colleagues.

But instead, a young, attractive woman enters the room. She's pale as a ghost and looks like she's just been raped or something. Her face is wet with tears and one of her hands is wrapped in a bloody towel.

"Oh good God, are you okay?", Cait asks as she pulls a chair for the girl to sit down.

She takes a few deep breaths before she starts talking.

"I need... a restraining order or something."

Cait and I exchange looks. I know what she's thinking: abusive ex boyfriend.

"Sure, what's your name?", I ask, picking up a pen and a piece of paper.  
"Olivia Percal."

I almost drop the pen. Jinx's girlfriend is sitting in front of me and she wants a restraining order. This can't be good.

"Restraining order against who?", I ask.  
"Hannah Rosecorn."

Cait chokes on her coffee.

"Come again?", I say, hoping I had misheard what she just said.

But she repeats my sister's new name clear as day.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

_A/N: I have to warn you here. The following chapter is very, very graphic. Proceed with caution._

 _[Vi's POV]_

"I'm sorry but," I clear my throat, "I happen to, uhh, know Miss Rosecorn, and... I thought you were her girlfriend? I talked to her a few days ago and she told me everything was fine between the two of you."

Olivia stares at me for a while.

"You're her sister!"

Well, fuck. I open my mouth to respond, but I don't know what to say.

"I found out who she is and what she did a little over a week ago."  
"This is exactly what I warned her about," I mutter under my breath.  
"Of course, I immediately ended our relationship. I didn't hear anything from her in a week after that. She didn't call, text, nothing. But last night, she suddenly turned up on my doorstep, acting like nothing had happened. She looked... completely out of it. She was wearing short sleeves but I could barely see her tattoo underneath all of the fresh cuts."

Caitlyn's face has also lost all of its colour by now. I can see her starting to shake slightly.

"I told her to leave. I know I should have called you then, but I wasn't thinking rationally. And then, this morning, she was sitting on my bed when I woke up."  
"How did she get in?", Cait asks.  
"She said she had a spare key, but I've never had a spare key. I don't know, she must've picked the lock somehow. She kept acting like we were still together, I eventually lost it and yelled at her, and when I tried to call the police, she did this to me."

Olivia holds up her hand. I can look through the wound.

"Okay," I say, getting up from my chair, "The Sheriff will take you to the hospital so you can get this taken care of. I'll go and pay my sister a visit."  
"Violet, I am the Sheriff and I make the orders. And I say it's way too dangerous for you to go alone."  
"I'll take my gauntlets. I'll be fine."

I can see Cait tear up. She steps up to me and kisses me like she's never kissed me before.

"I was right," she whispers against my lips, her voice shaking, "You remember what I said this morning? I was right. Vi, I'm scared."

I wipe the tears from her face, kissing her forehead.

"I'll be okay, I promise. If anything, it would be even more dangerous to take someone with me. She's my sister, after all."

With a deep breath, Cait lets go of me. I grab my gauntlets, throw them into my car and start driving.  
I know I played it cool, but I'm scared shitless. Why didn't Jinx's therapist call me? She must've noticed something. I tighten the grip around the wheel, my knuckles turning white.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is my fault. I shouldn't have stopped taking care of her. Shit.

I arrive at Jinx apartment complex not ten minutes after leaving the station.  
I put on my gauntlets and rush up the stairs, punching in the door to Jinx's apartment.  
I stand in the doorway and for a while, I hear nothing. Then, Jinx steps out of her bedroom. She's in her underwear.

I freeze, my stomach cramps up. I don't think I've ever seen a more horrifying picture. Both her arms and thighs, as well as her stomach and hips are covered in cuts, the rest of her body is full of burns and bruises. She's somehow managed to lose at least fifteen pounds, if not more, and her skin is almost grey.

"Fuck," I whisper.  
"Vi," she breathes, "What brings you here?"  
"Good God Jinx, look at yourself..."

I want to scream, yell at her, but all that leaves my lips are whispers.  
Slowly, I walk towards her and grab her by the shoulders, shaking her.

"Let go of me!"  
"Jinx, what have you done?"  
"Nothing! What's wrong with you?!"  
"Me? Are you fucking blind? Oh, God."

I can't stop crying. I was prepared, but nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared me for this.  
Suddenly, Jinx's eyes roll into the back of her head and she passes out in my arms. In complete shock, I drop her. I have to check out her apartment.

All the mirrors are shattered, pill bottles scattered all over the floor, stains on the floors and wall that I don't even want to be able to make out. It's filthy.  
Upon entering her bathroom, I almost throw up. The whole room is covered in vomit and blood. The scent is unbearable. I'm just about to slam the door shut again when I hear something from behind the shower curtain. I take a deep breath, hold it, and walk inside to pull the curtain aside.

"Shit!", is the first thing that escapes my lips.

Inside the shower, tied to a chair, is Jinx's therapist.  
Her mouth is covered by tape, but her eyes scream "Help!"  
With shaking hands, I remove the tape and start untying her.

"Thank you!", she breathes.  
"How long how you been in here?", I ask, doing my best not to gag from the smell that has filled the room.  
"A few days? She didn't show up for two appointments in a row, so I came over. I didn't expect to see her in this state, I should have called you first, I'm so sorry, Violet."  
"This isn't your fault."  
"The things I heard... She was crying, screaming and throwing up countless times a day. Talking to herself, screaming obscenities-"

Suddenly, she stops talking. Instead, I hear her whimper. I turn around to see Jinx standing behind me, holding what looks to be a taser gun. Before I can even react, she launches at me.

~l~

My head feels as if it's about to burst. It takes me a second to remember what happened.  
I try to move but my hands and feet are tied together.  
I look around. I'm in the bathroom, on the floor. Next to me, on the right, her therapist, still tied to a chair. And leaning in the doorway – Jinx.

If you thought she was terrifying with all her guns, you haven't seen her with a knife. Cold shivers are running down my spine.  
She starts walking towards her therapist and if I didn't know better, I'd say she's on drugs or blitzed drunk. She's seriously struggling with putting one foot in front of the other.

"You're ruining everything," she says in a deep, hoarse voice that doesn't sound like her at all.  
"N-no... I-"

Jinx raises the hand she's holding the knife with and I watch in horror as she stabs her therapist a first time. I can't help but scream.

"I won't let you" - stab - "Or anyone" - stab - "ruin this!" - stab - "Olivia and I" - stab - "were made for each other!" - stab - "AND YOU" - STAB - "WON'T" - STAB - "RUIN THIS!"

She stabs her one last time, pushing the knife straight though her torso, leaving it in her body. Then she starts pacing through the room, making noises that sound like they're straight out of The Exorcist.

I'm on the floor, shaking, crying, whimpering, watching her every move until she eventually comes to a halt.


	21. Chapter Twenty

_A/N: I'M SO FUCKING HYPED FOR THE NEW JINX SKIN IT'S PERFECT IN EVERY WAY OH MY GOD. AND THE VOICE LINES, OH GOD, THE FUCKING VOICE LINES.  
*Cough* Alright, sorry. Here we go._

[Jinx's POV]

I awaken from what feels like a very deep slumber.  
Blood. Blood on my hands, blood everywhere... and the sound of Vi crying in the distance.  
What happened?  
I look up – and scream.  
My therapist – and she's dead. Stabbed, countless times. The knife is still stuck in her chest.  
My hands and arms are covered in blood up to my elbows.

"Did I... do this?", I whisper.

Tears fill my eyes as I look over to Vi, who is sitting in the corner of the room, her hands and feet tied together, shaking and sobbing.

"Did I do this?", I ask again, a first tear making its way down my cheek.

Vi stops crying, but doesn't respond.

"Help me!", I scream.  
"Help? You're beyond help!", Vi yells back.

I grab my hair and pull as I let out a scream that hurts even my ears.

"Please! Please help me!"

I sink to my knees, struggling to breathe. Hyperventilating – I'm hyperventilating.  
Vi finally seems to catch on that I have snapped out of whatever it was that drove me to kill my therapist.

"Okay...", I hear her breathe, "Untie me... I'll see what I can do."  
"I don't want to be locked up!"  
"What the fuck do you expect me to do? Hide the body for you and act like nothing happened?"  
"I'm off my meds! I was fine when I was taking them regularly! I don't want to be locked up again! What I just did – that wasn't me! Please help me!", I pause, trying to get at least a little bit of air into my lungs, and then, with my voice shaking, I whisper, "You're my sister."

For a while, Vi and I just sit there, staring at each other. Then, after taking a deep breath, she says in a calm voice: "Untie me. Please."

Still crying, I crawl towards her, and with shaking hands, I untie her.  
Once she's free, she just sits there for a while, staring into nothingness.

"You know," she says after what feels like hours, "You saved both of our lives when we were younger. You stuck with me when we lived on the streets, you always tried to protect me even though I've always been the stronger one," she takes a deep breath and runs her hand through her hair, as though she's looking for the right words, "You'll always be my sister, my twin, a part of me, the only family I have left, whether I like it or not. A part of me will never stop caring about you and that's why it's so important to me that you get the help you need. I'm not a robot, I have feelings too. And I don't think I can handle seeing you suffer so much any longer. It fucks me up, you hear me? It. fucks. me. up. I care about you, more than I should, more than I care to admit. Even after everything you've done...", she pauses for a while, "... I still can't just hate you, no matter how hard I try."

Vi finishes her speech without ever looking at me the whole time she's talked. It takes me a moment to process what she just said.

"I know," I whisper, "But locking me up isn't going to help me."  
"I don't think you've fully grasped what just happened. Jinx, you just brutally murdered someone in front of my eyes. This means one of two things – either you go to jail, or you go back to the hospital. No matter what, you're going to get locked up."  
"Not if no one ever finds out what happened...", I say, biting my lower lip.  
"Are... are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"

I'm biting my lip so hard, I can taste blood.

"You can't be fucking serious. I'm a cop, I can't just-"  
"Exactly, you're a cop. If anyone can help me, it's you."  
"Your first stay at the hospital helped you -"  
"Obviously, I mean, look at me, I'm so much better. It's not like I just brutally stabbed someone to death. What temporarily fixed me was the meds. Not the talks with my therapist or being locked in a room all by myself."

Vi gets up, starts pacing through the room.

"You have one hour," she says after a while, "Run. I'll take care of this, of everything. When they ask me what happened, I'll tell them you drugged me and when I woke up, you were gone."

I'm tearing up again. I want to hug Vi, kiss her feet, but I know if I waste even one more second, she might just change her mind and turn me in. I jump to my feet, wash the blood off my body and change into more acceptable clothes that hide my scars and tattoo.I'm just about to leave when I hear Vi calling after me.

"This is your last chance. You better take your meds. If you put another toe out of line, I will turn you in. And don't even think about visiting Olivia."

My stomach sinks when she mentions Olivia's name, but I nod.  
I put a few clothes, my meds and all the money I have in a bag and leave.

Only when I leave the apartment complex, I realize that I have no idea what time, let alone what day, it is.  
I had a full blown psychotic episode that seems to have lasted several days.

I walk down the street, heading for the local all-around-store, where I purchase hair dye, a pair of scissors, a pair of fake glasses and some snacks. Then, I make my way further downtown, where I check into a cheap motel.

My room is run down, but acceptable.  
I step into the bathroom and turn on the light.  
The sight of my own face in the mirror shocks me. I'm pale as a ghost with my skin being almost grey, my lips are dried out, my eyes are bloodshot and the shadows under my eyes are darker than ever before. My hair is falling out in clumps, I even have a few bald spots here and there.

I take the scissors out of my bag and give myself a side cut. Afterwards, I dye my hair – it's a vibrant red. It doesn't suit me, but in combination with the fake glasses, it should keep people from recognizing me.

Once I'm done with my make over, I just stare at myself in the mirror for a while, wondering if Vi kept her promise. Is she really cleaning up my apartment right now and getting rid of the body – or did she call Caitlyn as soon _as I left?_


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

_[Jinx's POV]_

My throat is burning from the stomach acid. But it just won't stop.  
Tears are streaming down my face as I tighten my grip on the toilet seat.  
I've been sitting here for about an hour now. At this point, all that's leaving my body is pure stomach acid.

What's happening to me? Did I poison myself or... is it just the realization of what I've done?  
I have killed before. But I've never stabbed someone nine times, pushed the knife through their torso and been drenched in blood literally from head to toe.

The thought of that makes me puke again.

You know, when you shoot someone from close range, all that hits you are a few drops of blood. Having your arms covered in someone else's blood up to your elbows is something entirely different. Especially when you don't remember doing it. There is still dried blood under my fingernails.

Do you know what it's like to wake up and realize you've done something horrible? This isn't the first time it has happened. Last time it happened, I was in and out of insanity for a whole three months. What if this is just one of those clear moments that I used to have back then? What if I lose myself again in an hour or two?

The first time it happened, I came to my senses after murdering all my friends and my girlfriend. On her birthday.

And all of this because my father wasn't satisfied enough with his wife and had to use me as his sex toy. Mind you, I don't think my mother was in any condition to have Sex with anyone. Most of the time she was high out of her mind, in an almost comatose state. So my father took on me. I'll never understand why he chose me. He never even touched Vi.

Until that one day, where he almost did. I saw him looking at her with that look on her face that I had learned to fear so much. He grabbed her and I just – I snapped. I smashed a bottle on his head and then set the house on fire, grabbed Vi by the hand and ran.

Vi was everything I had. We were bullied in school because our family was poor and filthy. We only had each other. I couldn't let him touch her. I always thought if I play his games, if I do what he says, if I let him use me, he'll spare her. I had to save her. And I had to save myself. I never told Vi what my father did to me. All these years we spent living on the streets, I never told her that he raped me, again and again, every day.

I told her the whole story in tears after they'd locked me up.

Killing my parents – it's the only thing I feel no remorse for. Our mother had already been basically dead for years, anyway, and our father should never have been born in the first place. The only thing I regret about killing him is not making it more painful. I sincerely hope he was awake and alert when he burned to death.

Even after everything I had been through, I was... sort of okay for several years. Repression is the best therapy, right?  
Let me tell you: No, it's fucking not. I repressed all the things I had been through, convinced myself that the fire was an accident and "forgot" that my father every laid hands on me, "forgot" my mother's drug addiction.

And then, I was raped again. On my girlfriend's birthday, at her birthday party. And then, I remembered. Remembered everything, every last detail. If I hadn't tried to forget and dealt with it instead, I never would have snapped like this. I blacked out that night and when I woke up, they were all dead, I was still holing the guns, and Vi was gone. She saw me kill a total of eight people, and I was most likely trying to kill her as well.

She ran away, traumatized, lost her memory. I ran after her, got lost in the woods and lost my mind for good. And now, I'm fucked. Fucked beyond repair. And I killed the person who desperately tried to fix me. And I didn't just shoot her, quick and painless. It was a gruesome, slow, painful death. She didn't deserve that. What have I done?

I gag and cough, but my stomach is empty. But I still feel sick enough to puke up my guts.  
Oh God, Vi, what have you done? Why did you let me go? I need you now. I've never needed you more.

With my hand shaking I reach up to flush. I can't get up though. Instead, I crawl to the bathmat that's lying in front of the shower and lie down. I am drained of all my strength. My vision is blurry, I feel weak. My whole body is shaking. Am I going to die? I don't want to die like this, on the bathroom floor in a filthy motel room.

I reach into my pockets and pull out my phone. The screen is cracked and it takes me several tries to get it to turn on and stay on.

"I nerd yupo. Pleras. Im n that chep motel dowm th sreet from my aprmet, room 109. Com alone. Live u, sis", is what I manage to type.

I hit the "send" button, not even sure if I'm sending it to the right person. Once more, I feel the urge to throw up. I clench my fists and, on all fours, crawl back to the toilet, just barely missing it.

My elbows on the toilet seat, my head in my hands and my fingers buried in my hair, I want to scream, cry, but I'm to weak to do either.

Why did I think running was a good idea? Now I'm here, alone with myself and my body that's going haywire over the picture of my dead therapist that is etched into my mind. Why did I think I could somehow avoid being locked up again? They'll find me anyway. I'm fucked either way.

Tears are streaming down my face without me even noticing it. Vi, please come quick. I don't care if you lock me up, as long as I can hug you for a while beforehand. I haven't hugged you in way too long and just now, in this situation, I realize that I have crushed the relationship to the only person that has always loved me, through everything I've done. I'm so sorry, Vi.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

_A/N: This chapter was written by a very dear friend of mine. She was just doodling, really, but I thought it was so good that I told her to finish what she started. So, say "Thank you, Teme." :D_

 _[Vi's POV]_

As soon as Jinx is gone, all the crying, screaming, as well as the frustrated pleading is replaced by silence. Painful silence. I still feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins. The adrenaline, which comes from plotting my sister's safety, her freedom. But most importantly, it comes from breaking the law.

As a cop.

As I'm deep in thought, I find myself already being knelt down without noticing. My eyes are scanning the body in front of me. Normally, I would inspect a dead body for other reasons, not planning to get rid of it somehow. The whole situation just feels so surreal, I put a hand on the body's arm, attempting to remind myself how real this is. So very real.

My cheeks feel wet. A quick touch to check does it, I'm definitely crying. There are tears flowing down my face.

It's the realization. It hit me. How could I possibly think I'd be able to save my sister from an unavoidable sitution? Jinx killed someone. A human being with a family, a woman who was once so full of life and genuinely wanted Jinx to be happy. So do I. I want her happy, so desperately.

"Why can't she just be happy...?", I silently ask myself, and with that, there's the first sob, "Why... Why can't she be cured? Is it my fault? Am I the one who fucked everything up?"

I'm slamming my fists down against the floor. The floor... that's covered in dried blood stains.  
I want to help her. I do, with all my fucking heart, she's all family I have left. The idea of family is something I've clung to so badly.  
But I can't and won't cross the line for it. Ignoring my responsibilities as a cop, letting everyone down, especially Caitlyn. Never could I betray her, the person who believed in me, gave me a chance and made me the person I am today.

I have no choice. It's the right thing to do.  
Jinx, I wish it hadn't come to this...

Still crying, I reach for my phone.

~l~

The steps get louder and eventually stop when Caitlyn halts at the open bathroom door. Looks like she kept her promise, she came alone.  
I feel the incredible urge to be held by her. I hate feeling so vulnerable, but I want her to hold me so fucking tightly. I want her to make it all okay.  
Nothing's going to make it okay, though. Once again, we're left with a mess. All of this shit is my fault. I deserved to be stabbed to death, not her god damn therapist.

I want to look at Cait, but I'm frozen in place. Completely numb, with my back pressed against the wall as I sit there, my hands buried in my hair. I can feel her looking at me. Slowly, she steps inside.  
Finally being able to move, I look up at her. Her hand covers half of her face. Yeah, the smell, huh... I've been here for so long, I've gotten used to that god awful scent.

I watch her face turn pale when her eyes spot the body. Caitlyn rarely ever shows reaction to anything, but somehow this gets to her, just as it gets to me. Both of us are at a loss for words.  
I know, we're cops, we've seen some shit. Not to mention Jinx has been on a rampage before.  
But this is just so different from other times.  
The atmosphere, the smell, the vomit, the fear of what's coming – this is just the beginning.

"Here's your storm," I say in a voice barely above a whisper.

She then turns to me, and I see her face. Remember how I basically said that I wanted her to be strong for me? Forget that. The terror is written all over her face. If anything, she's even more scared than I am.

"I can't do this again," she says and I can hear her voice break.

I just stare at her, no clue what to say.  
We knew it was coming, but nothing could prepare us for this. It's the thought of going through all this a second time. We are also aware this is not the time to sit around and do nothing, but... we're tired. Scared. Defeated.

"I don't want this either..."  
"We have to go," she whispers.

I wrap an arm around her to comfort her. We're too exhausted to even leave the room. There's a dead woman lying in front of us, the knife still stuck in her fucking body.

"Where's Jinx?"

I almost jump at her sudden words.  
Alright, what the fuck do I tell her now? I let the batshit insane criminal go? I almost helped her get away with this shit?

"I was drugged...", I start, but I don't want to lie to her.

I take a deep breath.

"Actually... I'm a failure. That's what's up," I burst, even surprising myself with it, "You should have never believed in me."

Caitlyn hesitates before moving to sit in front of me, facing me. It's making me feel uncomfortable, but at least it's blocking the body.

"What happened?"  
"I fucked up big time."

I can feel her grabbing my hand firmly. Her eyes are locked onto mine so intensely, it feels as though she's staring right into my soul.

"I let her go, Caitlyn."

The words just leave my mouth, and I can't stop myself.

"When she came to her senses, she looked so helpless. She doesn't want to be locked up, and I understand that. I felt like I had to help her, just like she helped me when I needed her."

Fuck. The tears are coming again. I avoid eye contact as much as possible when I see her eyes widen, her shocked expression, yet I continue.

"She stopped taking her meds regularly, which led to this crazy, horrible, absolute fucking bullshit!"  
"... You let her go?"

I don't respond, being too ashamed of myself. How could I ever think that was a good idea to begin with?  
Suddenly, I feel Caitlyn hugging me close.

"I'm glad you called me."

The words are softly spoken into my ear. Spoken in the accent I fell in love with. Feeling the touch I have been craving. Held by the woman I adore more than anything. She gives me strength. Enough strength to finally stand. I pull her up with me.

"I was so scared when you called, Vi. I thought something had happened to you," she admits.  
"I'm just fine, Cupcake," I reassure her, trying to gain confidence, "Let's get going."

Caitlyn nods, then calls other cops to take care of the body.

'Here we go again', I think to myself as I put on my gauntlets.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

_A/N: Guys... I don't know what to tell you. I finished Start Fresh last night and it feels like a close friend just died. I'm honestly really fucking sad.  
Not to worry though, I do have a few more chapters to upload._

 _[Vi's POV]_

We arrive at the hospital to question Olivia when it's already about to get dark. Traffic is a bitch. Even with our sirens blaring and honking at everybody to get the fuck out of our way, it took us over an hour to get here.

We are greeted by the doctor who stitched up her hand – however, he seems more concerned about her mental state.

"I would actually like to keep her here for a few days, in the psych ward. I don't think she should be by herself," he says.  
"That's okay, we only want to ask her a few questions," I say.  
"I must ask you not to upset her."  
"Doctor, with all due respect, do you remember what happened when _she_ was active? I'll take an upset witness over another of her killing sprees any day, thank you very much," Cait snaps, "This should be in your interest as well. Or would you like to work through Christmas again, taking care of people that were wounded in an explosion?"

The Doctor falls silent and, with a stern look on his face, points at the door with the Number 214.  
Cait and I both take a deep breath before Cait raises her hand and knocks.

"Yes?"

Cait opens the door and we step inside.  
Olivia is sitting on her bed, her head turned away from the door, staring out the window.  
Don't upset her, the doctor said. I'd say she's already pretty upset. Fuck, she's going to flip when she finds out that Jinx escaped.  
I take off my gauntlets and Caitlyn puts her rifle on a table next to the bed.

"Hello, Olivia," she says in a soft voice as she pulls a chair to sit down.

Olivia doesn't say anything for a while. The silence is making me uncomfortable. I'm just about to say something when Olivia finally opens her mouth.

"Did you get her?"

Cold shivers are running down my spine. Now I wish she hadn't said anything at all.

"Well, not exactly...," Cait says.  
"Did you kill her? Is she dead?"

Bloodlust is written all over Olivia's face. This is what she wants to hear. That Jinx is dead.

"No. She's alive and well," I say in a quiet voice.  
"She got away, Olivia," Cait says.  
"What?"

Olivia has a weird kind of grin on her face. As if she's waiting for the pointe of a joke.

"This is a joke, right? What kind of cop are you?", she snaps at me.  
"It's not her fault, Olivia," Cait says before I even have the chance to open my mouth, "Jinx drugged her and got away when she was unconscious."

I didn't ask Caitlyn to lie for me. But in all honesty, I'm glad she did.

"So... you got nothing. Great."  
"I'm sorry," I say, "I am. Trust me."  
"Point is, we're no longer after her because she rammed a knife through your hand. This is a homicide investigation now."

All the anger vanishes from Olivia's face in response to Caitlyn's words. What was anger a minute ago is now nothing but plain terror.

"She killed someone?"

I nod.

"Who?"  
"We can't tell you that. I'm sorry," Cait says, pulling out a little notebook, "What's important now is finding out where she is."  
"How the fuck am I supposed to know?"  
"Well, you two were lovers..."  
"Shut up! I don't want to hear this!", Olivia hisses, now angry again.

Damn, this is one emotional roller coaster for the poor girl. And it's my fault...

"We know that this is hard but we need to ask you a few questions."  
"I have nothing to tell you. I don't know this person. Who I knew – or thought I knew – was Hannah Rosecorn. I don't know Jinx, I don't know what the flying fuck is going on inside her head or where she would go to hide."  
"Olivia -"

A beeping sound interrupts Caitlyn. Olivia reaches into her pockets and pulls out her phone. And then – she goes pale. Even her lips lose their colour. Her whole body is shaking.

"What is it?", I ask.  
"Nothing. Just get out," she says with her teeth gritted.

Cait gets up from her chair, sighing.

"I'll make you a deal, Olivia," she says, "We'll go and grab something to eat. You can take this time to calm down a bit. We'll talk when we get back. Okay?"

Olivia just nods, still staring at her phone.  
Caitlyn takes me by the hand and pulls me out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"What do you think was in that text message she received?", I ask.  
"I don't know," Caitlyn responds, "And I don't think her text messages should bother us. We have more important things to worry about."  
"Maybe you're right..."

Still, I can't shake this odd feeling, that maybe, just maybe the text was from Jinx.  
But... she's trying to hide. She'd be stupid to text Olivia, who hates her with every fibre of her being. Jinx might be completely fucking insane, but she's not that dumb.  
Still... I have this gut feeling...

"Cait, I think that text was from Jinx," I finally say.  
"Okay, now you're being paranoid," she responds while opening the door to the hospital cafeteria, "You gave her a chance to escape and hide. Why would she ruin this for herself by texting her ex girlfriend?"  
"I don't know," I mutter, watching Cait help herself to a tray that's loaded with food.

I'm not hungry. Quite the opposite, I feel sick.  
We sit down and I watch Cait stuffing her face with mashed potatoes and steak while I'm struggling to get my coffee down. I'm tensed up and nervous. Something isn't right.  
Cait sighs, putting her knife down.

"Do you really think there's a possibility that text was from Jinx?"  
"Yes. I just – I have this odd feeling. I don't know, I can't explain it."  
"Alright," Cait says, getting up, "Let's ask Olivia then."  
"You didn't finish your steak."  
"If this text really was from Jinx, we shouldn't waste any time."

With fast steps, we walk back to room number 214.  
Caitlyn knocks, but gets no response.

"Olivia?", she asks while opening the door.

The room is empty.

"Where did she go?"  
"There is something I'm even more concerned about," Cait says, with fear in her eyes, "Where is my rifle?"


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

_A/N: Sooooooo if you saw the Star Guardian Video and you don't ship Jinx with Lux, you're wrong. Riot basically just confirmed this ship HAHA._ _I'm going to write a Lux/Jinx fic set in the Star Guardian universe next AND NOTHING CAN STOP ME._  
 _Also, the following two chapters were written by my friend. Enjoy!_

 _[Olivia's POV]_

The rifle feels cold in my hand. Is that the reason why I'm shivering? - No. It's the anger.

I am so enraged, I could fucking kill her. And I will, that's why I took Caitlyn's weapon with me, right? Yes. I'll do it. I'll kill Hannah- Jinx. I'll kill the fuck outta her. Her, who betrayed my trust, used me, the person I thought I loved. I'll kill her, shoot her, until that entire cheap fucking motel is covered in her blood.

Somebody has to do it. She has to pay for what she did, not only to me, but to so many other people. This lunatic took so many loved ones, including my family. She has to die. It's what she deserves. I can't sit and wait for things to happen, I have to do them myself. That useless failure of a cop couldn't even arrest her.

Just the thought of her being free angers me. My grip on the rifle tightens, I want to feel the gun in my hand as much as possible. The cold wind reminds me I'm still shivering. I'm not freezing at all though, I don't really feel that cold, yet my whole body is shaking.

I just snuck out of the hospital, climbing out of the window and down the building. Now that I think about it, that was pretty dangerous. I could have died doing this with a rifle – Sheriff Caitlyn's rifle – in my arm, but I simply didn't care.

Honestly, after reading that pathetic text message Jinx sent me, assuming it was by accident, I couldn't control myself. It doesn't make any sense that Jinx had drugged Officer Vi before she ran away, just to text her afterwards. Is Vi in on this? I can't trust anyone anymore, not even the police. I've lost all faith in humanity, so, fuck it.

She has to die.

As I'm approaching the motel, I feel my body shaking even more. I'm lucky there aren't any people around, I look extremely suspicious with that rifle.

Now... how to get inside. First, I make sure nobody sees me while I make my way to the entrance slowly. Then, I carefully crack the door open and peek inside.  
The staff is not at the counter. I take the chance to enter, taking quiet steps. The stairs are so close, yet so far away.

"Hello?"

Shitshitshit. I turn to the counter, hiding the weapon behind my back. A woman shows up. I want to speak, but I only swallow instead, not able to say anything.

"Hello, Miss. Can I help you?", the woman asks with a smile on her face.

She looks tired. I doubt she wants to work here. This place is awful.

"Uhh...", I start, trying to keep it cool, "I... want to visit my friend."

The woman behind the counter looks at me, rather worried. Oh God, please don't let her notice anything. I don't want to go to prison.

"Are you alright, Miss?"  
"Yes. I just really want to visit my friend."

I try my best to look like a normal human being who actually just wants to see their friend. I force myself to a smile.

"Are you sure? Do you need a doc-"  
"I'm fine," I interrupt her.

The low quality radio music fills the room, until the woman finally speaks again.

"If there are any problems, let me know."

I simply nod.

"So, who would you like to visit? I'll call them to let them know."

My lips are dry, my heart is racing and I feel the sweat all over my body. I take a deep breath.

"The girl in room 109. Tell her Vi wants to see her."

I hold the gun closer, feeling it pressed against my back as the woman is making the phone call.

After awkwardly waiting for her to leave, I make my way to room 109. Once I stand in front of the door, I take my time to think all of this through, but I have a hard time doing so. My head is filled with memories of my family, leaving no space for any rational thoughts.  
As tears start filling my eyes, I scream, kicking the door down with all strength I have in my leg. The cheap wooden door is now completely destroyed, giving me free entrance. Since I'm making so much noise, Jinx should be here any second, and I'm prepared. I'm armed. Ready to shoot her brains out.

I hear steps coming from the bathroom.  
… There she is. She instantly stops when she spots me.

"Shocked to see me?", I ask her, surprised to hear this much confidence in my own voice.  
"Olivia...?", she manages to breathe out.  
"Expected your sister, huh?", I start yelling, raising my voice more as I speak, "Well, I'm sorry to tell your dumbass that you sent the text to the wrong person."

She can't even look into my eyes. She's staring at the rifle, her lips parted and the shock written all over her face. Now that I start paying attention, she seems to be very ill. Her face is extremely pale, her lips have no colour either. Not to mention she's not fucking saying anything. The whole room reeks of vomit. Is this how she gets when she's about to go on a rampage? Or is this real? As time passes, I realize more and more that I don't know this person at all.  
"Talk to me, bitch!", I scream, the tears now streaming down my face.

I step closer to her, holding the gun tightly in my hands, ready to pull the trigger at any second.  
Jinx raises her hands defencelessly. She looks even more disgusting up close. This is the person who murdered my family. This pathetic piece of shit.

Without realizing it, I've forced Jinx into a corner, the rifle poking her in her chest. Finally, she is making eye contact, still looking absolutely terrified.

"Where's Vi?", She asks quietly.  
"Are you deaf? I just told you she wasn't the one receiving the message."

I am grinding my teeth in anger. I would just shoot her and get it over with, but there are so many things I want to tell her before I kill her.

"I told her to come...", she whispers, now facing the ground.

I can see the tears forming in her eyes. God fucking damn it. Fuck this bullshit.

"Are you seriously playing the victim now?", I continue yelling at her, "You're the murderer here! You took so many innocent lives!"

I roughly poke the gun into her with every sentence, making her flinch each time.

"Now what? you're going to take mine? An eye for an eye, huh?"

With that, she stares me directly in the eyes. The glare is giving me chills.

"Yes... It's what you deserve," I respond hesitantly, my voice shaking slightly.  
"Then do it."

I feel my legs shaking. She's right. Do it. Pull the trigger. What are you waiting for?

"I'm waiting. Shoot me."


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

_[Olivia's POV]_

I swallow for like the millionth time now. How come I can't shoot her? It was my desire to see these walls painted with her brains. What happened?

"Just pull the trigger," she continues, sobbing, "I don't deserve to live after all that I've done. Not even my sister wants me. End my life already. Get it over with."

Even though I am the armed one here, I'm scared. I am so damn scared. Her mood swings are unreal. She keeps switching between sad and furious. Something's clearly wrong. I should shoot her. For the love of god, Olivia, just shoot her already.

"I knew it," she hisses, grabbing the rifle that's been pressed against her, and forcefully pushing it into my body instead.

Next thing I know, I'm curled up on the floor, holding my stomach in pain. My eyes are shut, but I feel her stepping closer to me. As I slowly dare to open my eyes, I see her staring down at me. Her expression is blank.

"You're weak," she says in a taunting voice, "What made you think you could come here and shoot me?"

I only wince in pain, slowly burying my face into the carpet, knowing I'm about to die.

"You're an embarrassment. Although...", she pauses mid-sentence.

I hear her grabbing the rifle that's laying on the floor before she continues.

"Your taste in weapons is not bad."

She's about to shoot me. I know it. I hope it'll be quick. I don't want to be tortured.

"Look at me, Olivia," she commands.

I do as I'm told. I look up at her. There's this evil grin on her face. I've seen it before. It's that same grin she had on her Wanted Poster five years back.

"This rifle looks familiar..."

She sensually runs a hand down the gun as she speaks.

"Say, could this be Caitlyn's by any chance? Or did you just happen to get the exact same one?"

I only stare at her. I feel numb. I can't move, I want to run, but she'll definitely shoot me if I do that. What did I get myself into? What do I do?  
Jinx continues rambling on, meanwhile I'm trying to think of a way out of this. I spot my phone. It's on the floor, it probably fell out of my pocket when she pushed me down. I wonder if I can reach for it while she's distracted. Slowly, I move my hand towards the phone-

"AAGH!"

I scream in pain. She shot me. She shot me in my arm. Fuck! Fucking hell, I cannot handle the pain. I can't help but scream.

"Now, now... Aren't you aware of how impolite it is to play games on your phone while someone's talking to you? How rude."

I'm helplessly watching her pick up my phone as I press down on my fresh wound, trying to prevent the blood loss.

"Geez, you're such a baby. Crying because of a little scratch. Tell you what, how about you go and get that treated. I'll follow up."

I don't say anything, I only breathe heavily. The pain is killing me, I'm losing so much blood.

"Come on, Olivia. Go. You have twenty seconds."

My eyes widen when the realization hits me. I get on my knees, struggling to stand up without the strength of my arms. When I finally manage to stand on my legs, I run. I run like I've never run before. And I scream. I scream for help until my throat gets sore.

On my way, I meet the woman from before. She opens her mouth to say something, but falls silent when she spots the wound on my arm.

"Call the police! Run! She'll kill you!", I scream in desperation, making my way out of the motel.

I plan to run away until the police arrive, hoping that my pleads in public won't go unheard. Though, there is no one to be seen.  
I run so, so much. I run until I start getting dizzy from the blood loss. Still no police in sight. I wish I had my phone... I need an ambulance too. I'm going to die. Jinx will kill me, I don't stand a chance.  
As I'm leaning against a wall, I catch my breath. I take a quick look at my wound. I release the grip on my arm to see my hand covered in fresh blood. What was I thinking? I feel sick. I'm gonna faint. I need to... keep going...

I spot a church. I go inside, hoping to see people there. Of course, it's deserted. Fuck this. Why is nobody around in this god awful city? Even if there were any people who heard me, they're probably dead now. This is all my fault. I'm responsible for people being killed now. I should've shot her. She was right, I'm weak.  
I hurry to the front, hiding behind the seats. There are better places to hide here, but my body refuses to obey me. Everything's getting blurry. It's over. I'm just sitting here. Breathing heavily. Waiting for death to take me.

Suddenly, I hear the door being slammed open. Slow, quiet steps... I freeze in place.

"I have a feeling you're running away from me. Aren't we going to get your little boo-boo treated?"

She's coming closer, I can hear it. This is it.

"That's what girlfriends are for, right? They are always there for each other, no matter what. I love you, Olivia," she says in a terrifyingly soft tone.

She is now at the front row, stopping there. Slowly, I turn my head to face her. She's aiming the gun at me.

"We'll be together..."

Police sirens. Someone called the police. Someone actually did it. Oh my god, the police are here. Please come rescue me from this lunatic. Please.  
Jinx doesn't bother moving at all. She's still standing there, aiming at me.

"Forever."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

_A/N: I like reviews. Like, just saying. No pressure._

 _[Vi's POV]_

"We got you now," I hiss, pressing my face against the bars in the little window.

I can see her sitting on her bed, staring at the floor. They shaved her head. She looks like a completely different person without her long, blue hair. Her shaved head, the hospital gown and her skinny figure make her look like a fucking lunatic – which is exactly what she is.

"You lost. We got you," I say again.  
"Fucking congrats," I hear her groan.

She must be on a shitton of meds. I watched the doctors inject her with two different sedatives – and even that seemed barely enough to restrain her.

"Are you proud? Proud that you got your own sister locked up?", she asks, stumbling over her words and slurring them.  
"What?"

What is she talking about now?  
And even more important, why am I worrying about what she's saying? She's a complete nutjob, she's delusional. And on top of that, she's high on all the meds right now.

"You don't remember?"

I see her get up from her bed, tumbling towards the door. She wraps each her hands around one of the bars in the window. She leans as close as possible with that thick metal door between the two of us. Her bloodshot eyes and the dark shadows underneath them – just the sheer expression on her face freaks me the fuck out. Even though I know she can't hurt me now, I take a step back.

"Your real name is Violet. You were born in Zaun. And you have a twin sister. Me."  
"Bullshit. If you're trying to make me help you get out, it's not working."

I force a laugh, but the expression on her face remains serious.

"Our mother was a drug addict and she barely ever took care of us. And then there was our father..."

Pictures in my mind. Memories.  
No. She's lying. She has to be.

"Both of them were abusive. And one day, when we were nine, I killed them in self defence and we ran away together. I saved both our lives that day. We only had each other, and all those years we spent on the streets..."

She lowers her head for a while, and when she looks back up, I can see tears streaming down her face. Her voice is shaking and breaking when she continues talking.

"All these years I never told you the truth. He raped me, Vi. Over and over again, for years. And I let it happen, because I thought if I obey him, he would spare you. But then, one day, he was going to touch you and I snapped."

She pauses for a minute, sobbing loudly. Every fibre of my body wants to believe that she's lying, but...  
I want to run. Run and never return to this place, forget that any of this ever happened.

"We protected each other with our lives on the street. I repressed all the memories – kinda like you did. I forgot it happened. We met a group of young people at some point and joined their street gang. It wasn't easy but it was the happiest time of our lives. Until..."

Oh dear fucking God, there's more.

"One day, after a party, I was raped again, by a stranger. I blacked out and when I regained consciousness,... I had killed all of our friends and you were gone. I just wanted to find you... I ran into the woods and... lost my mind," she finishes her story.

I just stare at her. Her hands are still wrapped around the bars, but she has lowered her head so I can't see her face. He sobs are what's filling the empty hospital halls.  
And then, I run. Run like I've never ran before, out of the hospital, tears streaming down my face.  
I remember now.

~l~

I remember it clear as day. The day I visited Jinx in the hospital after we had arrested her. The memories are running through my head like a movie as I'm looking at the scene that's in front of me.

She's holding Caitlyn's gun and aiming it at Olivia who is curled up on the floor. Caitlyn is shaking with what seems to be both fury and fear. I had believed we could handle this, but now that she has a gun, everything seems lost.

"Freeze! Police!", one of my colleagues yells out, aiming his gun at her.  
"Don't...", I whisper.

Jinx lowers the rifle and turns to look at us.  
We're here with full force. Everyone who was on duty ran to their cars after we received the call. Thirty people, if not more.  
And yet, I feel like we're outnumbered.

"Good to see you, Cait," Jinx says, in an almost singing voice, "You want this back?"

She raises the rifle.  
Driven by anger, Caitlyn takes a step forward, I hold her back.

"Hey, don't be mad at me. Blame this pathetic little thing right here," Jinx says, kicking Olivia, who groans in pain in response.

Something inside me snaps.

"Stop!", I yell, "You don't want to hurt her, do you? You do lover her, after all."

Jinx doesn't respond, but lowers the rifle a bit more.

"You love her. You don't want her hurt."  
"What are you doing?", Caitlyn whispers.

I don't respond. In all honesty, I have no idea what I'm doing. But it seems to be working. Jinx is staring down at the body at her feet, no longer aiming at her.

After a while, she looks up.

"You," she points at Caitlyn, "Help her get up. Bring her to the hospital."

Hesitantly, Cait starts stepping forward. Jinx aims the rifle at her, following her every step.  
Caitlyn reaches Olivia, helps her get to her feet and walks her out of the church, all with Jinx aiming at them.  
Once Caitlyn and Olivia have left, Jinx, once again, lowers the gun.

"So," I say, with my voice shaking while taking slow, careful steps towards her, "What was in that text message you sent her?"  
"I meant to send it to you," Jinx responds quietly, her head lowered, "I needed you. I had a complete fucking meltdown and I needed you. I was puking for an hour straight, I thought I was going to die."

I hear her sob. She's crying.  
I can feel all of my colleagues standing behind me, aiming their guns at her, ready to shoot.  
I don't want them to shoot. I don't want anyone else to die tonight.

"It's okay. I'm here now," I say in a calm voice, still moving forward.

I've almost reached her.

"It's too late now."

I hear a shot, feel a sharp pain in my upper abdomen, and then all I see is black.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

_A/N: We're approaching the end, guys._  
 _Also yes, dear Guest, I will be doing a Jinx/Lux Fanfiction. :D (However, I promised Teme a Life is Strange Fanfiction, so I might do that first, not sure yet. :D)_

 _[Vi's POV]_

The beeping of a heart monitor is what I wake up to. When I open my eyes again, everything is bright.  
I'm in the hospital.  
Caitlyn is sitting on a chair to my left, her upper body resting on my bed. She seems to be asleep.

Carefully, I poke her shoulder.  
She sits up, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh thank God, you're awake."  
"What happened? Where's Jinx?"  
"She shot you. Oh God, Vi, you were so lucky – she hit the lower part of your bullet proof vest. It stopped the bullet's force enough for it not to be a lethal shot."  
"How long was I unconscious? And where is Jinx?", I ask again.  
"Five, six hours? You had surgery, they removed the bullet. It stopped right before your stomach."  
" _Where is Jinx_?"

Caitlyn takes a deep breath.  
Please tell me she's not dead, I don't think I could handle that right now.  
I can already feel the tears filling my eyes.

"After she shot, the others opened fire on her. You'd think after five years she's forgotten how to dodge bullets that well – she made it out through the side entrance. We don't know where she is now. We haven't heard anything from her since then."  
"Alright then, what are we waiting for?", I say, getting up from my bed, ignoring the stabbing pain in my abdomen.  
"What do you think you're doing?", Cait says, getting up from her chair and forcing me to sit back down by pushing my shoulders down, "You just went trough life saving surgery. You almost died."  
"We have to find her!"  
"It's four o'clock in the morning! She's probably asleep under a bridge right now. And you need rest as well. You're not going anywhere."  
"But what if -"  
"Vi, we have doubled the number of officers on duty. If anything happens, they'll be there to handle it."  
"I don't care how many of them are on duty. Nothing here happens without me, you hear me, Caitlyn? I'm the only one who can calm her down."  
"She _shot_ you!"  
"Yes, but I stopped her from killing Olivia. And I'm sure she wasn't intending to kill me -"  
"Look, I know she's your sister, but I'm begging you, face reality! She's lost her mind again. I don't think she cares who she kills anymore."  
"But..."

Tears, again. Fuck, I'm so tired of crying. Can I just start over?  
Caitlyn sits down next to me, hugging me tightly.  
I pull her closer to me and bury my face in the crook of her neck.  
I'm so fucking tired of this bullshit.

~l~

I wake up to the sound of birds twittering. The clock across from my bed tells me it's 8:23 am.  
Caitlyn's head is resting on my chest, but she isn't sleeping. Her eyes are open.

"Morning," I whisper.

She sits up.

"Good morning."

Her voice is drained of all emotion. It just sounds flat.  
She's about as done as I am.  
At this point, I'm seriously considering a suicide pact.  
We sit there in silence until we hear a silent knock on the door. It opens without either of us saying 'Come in'.

Olivia walks inside, her right arm in a sling.

"I'm so, so sorry," she says, staring at the floor, "I fucked up. Words can't express how sorry I am. When I got that text message, my brain just... stopped working."  
"Would you mind showing me that message?", I ask, while Caitlyn remains silent – probably because she's still mad at Olivia for taking her rifle.

Olivia hands me her phone.

"I nerd yupo. Pleras. Im n that chep motel dowm th sreet from my aprmet, room 109. Com alone. Live u, sis".

Live u.  
She meant to write "Love you". Fuck, when's the last time we told each other that we love each other?  
Once again, I can feel tears running down my cheeks. I'm so sick of this. It's been barely 24 hours since Jinx snapped again and I've spent half this time crying. Fuck this.

We used to say "I love you" daily. Back when we were kids.  
As we got older and Jinx's mental health deteriorated, we stopped doing that.  
Bipolar disorder and Depression have always been an issue for her, I remember that. She had those... violent outbursts about once or twice a month. She'd scream, cry and if anyone attempted to touch her, she'd start hitting and punching them. She actually hurt her girlfriend rather severely with a knife once.  
None of our friends ever understood. Nor did I. How could I? She never told me what broke her.

"Something horrible happened," she said one night.  
It was only a few nights before everything fell apart.  
I asked her what she meant, but she just shook her head and said she didn't know. And then, she hugged me, out of nowhere. She hugged me so tightly, I had trouble breathing. I tried pushing her off me, but she wouldn't let go.  
It took me a while to realize that she was crying.

"I love you," she said, over and over again.  
I held her all night after that. Sometimes I wonder if her breakdown from that night was the first sign that she was close to the breaking point. Sometimes I wonder if I could have stopped all of this from happening. If all of this is my fault.

We were so close. Even during that phase where we were teenagers and did basically nothing but fight, we still knew we loved one another. And now...

Just look at this mess.  
I wish I could hold her one more time – without the thought that she killed so many people in the back of my head.

I reach for Caitlyn's hand. My ears feel hot and the tears are flowing down my face, no matter how hard I try to stop them.  
Cait was right. I should be realistic.  
I've already lost my sister years ago.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

_[Jinx's POV]  
_  
Cold. It's cold.  
A cold front hit Piltover and temperatures dropped severely. I'm freezing. My hand is holding the rifle so tightly, you'd think it's frozen.

I'm running out of bullets.  
I don't even know why I'm worried about this. I don't want to kill anyone else.  
But being near a gun makes me lose all self control.

Fuck, I shot Vi. I shot my sister. I didn't mean to do that. She's the last person on this whole God damned planet that I want dead. Fuck, I hope she survived.

"Why did I do that?", I ask – myself or the rifle, I'm not quite sure.

So far, the gun hasn't said anything. I'm not sure if that's a good sign.  
They say each pregnancy is different. I guess the same thing goes for psychosis. This is so different from last time. And yet, somehow, it's the same shit all over again. Once again, I find myself hiding from civilization under a bridge. Cold. Dirty. Alone.

I breathe a deep sigh. What am I going to do now?  
I killed my therapist. I shot Olivia. I possibly even killed my own sister. If they lock me up this time, I'm not getting out. Ever.

I'd shoot myself, end this odyssey. But shooting yourself with a four foot long rifle is a little hard when you're only 5'2".  
Why can't Caitlyn own a normal ass .45 caliber handgun like other cops? And why the fuck did I run when they opened fire on me? Why didn't I just stay right there and let them kill me?

Why, why, why?  
Why couldn't I have a father who didn't like fucking his own daughter? Why couldn't I have a mother who wasn't addicted to all the drugs? Why could I just have a normal life, go to high school, fall in love for the first time and have a dramatic coming out only to have everyone accept me for who I am in the end? Why couldn't I have that kind of life where everything ends up having a good ending?  
Why, why, why?

I thought I had found happiness. Fuck, I really thought my love to Olivia was going to fix me. I thought I could finish college, recover from my depression, anxiety and get my personality disorders under control, eventually get off my meds, get married and maybe even adopt a kid or two.

But of course, she just had to find out, right? It could have been so good.  
I want her back. I want them both back. Olivia and Vi. I want my sister back. And my lover. I want to feel loved again. Feeling loved after all these years where all anyone, including myself, ever felt for me was hatred, felt so good.

"I want them back...", I whisper, letting the cold wind carry my words away.  
"Then get them."

I freeze. Oh God, no. Fuck. Shit. No.  
It talked. The gun responded to me. Fuck.  
I cover my ears.

"You're an inanimate object, you can't talk, you're an inanimate object, you can't talk,y ou're an inanimate object, you can't talk," I repeat over and over again.  
"Crazier things have happened," the rife says.

I can hear the voice loud and clear, even though my ears are covered.

"It's all in my head, it's all in my head, it's all in my head," I mutter.  
"Of course it's in your head, but why on earth should that mean it's not real? You're lonely and you need a friend, so here I am."

I take my hands off my ears and stare at the gun.

"You're the sheriff's gun, why the fuck would you motivate me to kill them? Or anyone, for that matter?"  
"Kill them, you say? That's an interesting interpretation of my words. I never said you should kill them. Maybe that's what you want."  
"I love them. I'd never want them dead," I say, but as soon as the words have left my lips, I'm suddenly not so sure anymore.  
"Maybe you should pay them a visit at the hospital and then decide what you do."

I nod. With shaky legs, I get up.

The streets are deserted. I guess police gave out a warning – about me.  
"Stay in your houses. Keep your windows and doors locked."  
Crazy how one person can do that to a city, don't you think?

The closer I get to the hospital, the faster I start walking. By the time I've reached the entrance, I'm running. I hide the rifle behind my back and push the doors open, slowly walking towards the reception.

"Miss, do you need a doctor?", the nurse behind the counter asks, sounding worried.

I reckon I look horrible. I can't remember the last time I've eaten.

"No, I...", I breathe, pulling the rifle out from behind my back and pointing it at her, "I want to know in what room Officer Violet is."  
"You have four shots left," the gun whispers into my ear.

The nurse raises her hands in defence.

"I – I think that would be room number 306," she says, with her voice shaking.  
"Thanks," I say as I pull the trigger.  
"Three shots."

As soon as the shot's gone off, I start running. I don't have time to wait for the elevator, I take the stairs. I hear screams coming from the first floor, but I ignore them. Once I've reached the third floor, I run into the doctor on duty.

"You-", he starts, but I don't give him time to say anything else.  
"Two shots," the rifle whispers as he drops dead to my feet.

I kick in the door to room 306.  
Three pairs of eyes are staring at me. Olivia is here, too.

"Ohh, it's a party," I say, feeling that crazy grin creeping up on my face.

I could cry and break down, but instead, the smile on my face is growing wider and wider.  
To my very surprise, neither of them really react to my being here. Olivia is staring at the floor, Vi – who, to my very delight, is alive – looks like she's about to cry and the expression on Caitlyn's face is just... blank.

"What? Aren't you going to detain me? Scream? Cry? Plead? Boring."

It feels like the person talking isn't me. My voice sounds like it's coming from miles away. I want to tell them I'm sorry. I want to tell Vi and Olivia I love them. But I can't get the words over my lips.

Olivia gets up from her chair.

"It's me you want, right? Take me. Take me now," she says.

Like Caitlyn, the expression on her face is blank.  
I lower the rifle.

"I'd never want you dead," I say, sounding more like myself again.

I take a step towards her, cornering her against the wall.  
I grab her face and kiss her. She isn't resisting – but she isn't kissing me back either. Her lips don't feel as soft as I remember them. And yet, I wish I could kiss them every day. God, I missed her...

"S-Stay right there," I hear Vi speak.

I turn around to see her pointing a gun at me. It's her duty gun. She rarely ever uses it, usually she lets her gauntlets do all the work.

"Vi...", I breathe, taking a step back.  
"I said don't move!", she says.

I hear the gun click as she flicks off the safety.

"Do you really want to shoot me?"  
"No," Vi says, a tear making it's way out of her left eye and down her cheek, "But I have to. I'm sorry, Jinx."

Time seems to be frozen. I can see the bullet fly towards me in slow motion. The shot goes straight through my chest. I drop top the floor, feeling life slowly leave my body.  
Vi's voice is the last thing I hear before I can finally rest.

"I love you."

 **\- The End -**

 _A/N: ..._  
 _So... I don't know where to start. I wanted to wait longer with posting this chapter, but I figured that wouldn't make it any less painful._  
 _This fanfiction meant a lot to me. I would write three or four chapters in one go._  
 _Also, I've never finished a story that was this long. I was bawling my fucking eyes out when I wrote that last chapter._  
 _It's just a story, I really shouldn't be so emotional about it. But I am. I was really fucking sad when I finished it. It felt like a break up for a few days._  
 _A few last words, thoughts or critisism, from you would be greatly appreciated._  
 _I did write a mini-epilogue (~300 words) more for myself, but if you'd like to read it, I'll post it._  
 _Otherwise, this is the end of Start Fresh._  
 _Thanks to all of you who stuck with my version of Jinx 'til the end._

 _I think I need a while before I can start something new - but I have a Jinx/Lux fanfiction and a Life is Strange fanfiction planned, so look forward to that, if you're interested. :)_


End file.
